Polaris
by nerd4music
Summary: Mercedes Jones lives a life of self-imposed solitude. What happens when an 8-year reunion forces her to confront her past demons and question her future? Can she face the hard truths? Mercedes/Sam, Mercedes/Finn.
1. Chapter 1: Polaris

**AN: The title comes from Jimmy Eat World's song "Polaris". The music of JEW, specifically the "Futures" album will be featured throughout the story. **

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><p><em>I'm done, there's nothing left to show<em>  
><em>I try, but can't let it go<em>

_-Polaris, Jimmy Eat World_

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><p>"You've reached Mercedes. I'm not available, but leave a message and I'll try to return your call!"<p>

There was a brief beep before he spoke. "Oh god. Cedes, I know you're still at that godawful job, but I just got a call and you won't believe who. Call me when you get off work! This is Kurt, by the way."

Mercedes Jones chuckled at the almost frantic tone in her best friend's voice. Kurt was always so damn dramatic. The way he told it, it was as if the whole damn world was gonna end any second. Normally his upbeat disposition would exhaust her, but today was ripe with good news. Her baby, the novel she'd been slaving over for nearly four years was almost complete.

All the late nights, endless cups of coffee, and countless fits of writer's block and tears were about to pay off. She'd given a copy of the manuscript to her friend Victoria. Frankly after four years she was terrified and half-sick of looking at the thing. She needed an outsider's perspective. Unbeknownst to her, Victoria had passed it on to an editor friend of hers who worked at a major publishing house.

Mercedes should have been pissed when Victoria showed up to work, bursting with excitement over the news, but the thought of an actual New York editor reading her work was a thrilling thought. She could hardly concentrate on the article she was supposed to be writing about the latest indie darling hitting mainstream. All she could focus on was her book. Victoria told her that the editor friend would get back to her any day now, but the response was definitely positive.

She was on a high. True, the person hadn't called yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Music would always be her first love, but writing was her mistress. It was a way for her to bang out all the frustration, anger, happiness, whatever she was feeling. She had boxes of journals, every page filled, from high school and college to the present.

As luck would have it, she got the job working for Wrecked Magazine, a mid-level publication that focused on all things music in the indie scene and beyond. At first glance it seemed like the wrong place for the Diva Miss Jones, but few people knew of her love for all genres. Her iPod was a mixed bag: a little Otis, some Dead Kennedys, Blondie, The Smiths, Erasure, Whitney…it was all there.

Working at Wrecked was grueling. She was a lowly staff writer, but it gave her an opportunity to see a lot of shows, meet plenty of artists, and also get her name out in the music world. Her singing career was coming along, slowly but surely. Her YouTube channel had plenty of hits daily and her video blog was a moderate success. It was only a matter of time before singing covers of The Cure and Aretha would pay off.

Mercedes slipped on her earbuds as she shoved her phone into her purse. Kurt could wait; it was only a short subway ride back to their Brooklyn apartment. It took some convincing for the arguably stubborn Kurt to give up his Carrie Bradshaw dreams of living in Manhattan, but after she pointed out that Carrie's bony ass was fake and never had to deal with expensive Manhattan bills, he grudgingly accepted Brooklyn.

Park Slope was perfect for them. Not as wannabe hipster as Williamsburg, but boasted plenty of culture and city life. Kurt was won over by the music and fashion, declaring the borough 'positively bohemian-chic', and their parents were happy with the price of their apartment.

Mercedes hopped off the subway, preferring to walk the rest of the way. It was a decent spring evening, thankful she wore a light leather jacket to keep away the April chill. It wasn't too long before she reached the steps of their brownstone. The old-style was converted into three apartments. She and Kurt lucked out with the top floor. It was a bit bigger, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight.

As Mercedes climbed the steps, her phone began to ring from her purse, the sound echoing through the old stairwell. "I'm almost outside the door, Kurt!" she yelled up the stairs. Chuckling, she heard the front door open and a voice shout "Hurry the hell up, Mary! I have news!"

By the time she made it to their door, she was a little breathless. "I love our place, but damn if it's not big girl friendly."

Kurt waved her statement away. "Good exercise for those calves. Now will you bring your ass inside? I got takeout from Jade Dragon and a bottle of wine!"

She grinned. "Are we celebrating something?" Mercedes shrugged out of her jacket and slung her purse on the couch as she followed Kurt into the large kitchen. The appliances were all the original pieces, save for a modern dishwasher. The cabinets were scrubbed and stained a gorgeous cherry that matched the hardwood floor which ran through the whole apartment, while the gunmetal grey of the countertops gave the place a certain pop.

The design was all Kurt's vision. She gave him free reign, letting him take over and delight in chintz and fabric to his heart's content. She had to admit, the boy knew what he was doing.

"I have such good news!" he said excitedly. He reached into the cabinet for wineglasses while Mercedes got the clean plates.

"So do I," she stated. "You know my novel? Well I gave it to Victoria to read and she apparently passed it on to an editor friend of hers, who's supposed to be calling me soon to discuss it."

Kurt's blue eyes sparkled. "Oh honey that's amazing! I just knew this day was going to be good! Cosmo's horoscopes are rarely wrong."

Mercedes rolled her eyes as she spooned out an equal amount of veggie lo mein and sesame chicken onto the plates. "I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I'm super nervous."

"Don't be," Kurt reassured as he took a sip of the Riesling. "You're a great writer Mercy. Isn't this the novel that's about us?"

"It's not about anyone in particular. I guess it's a bit autobiographical in a way. Just about experiences growing up in a small town." She added two spring rolls before carrying the plates over to the couch. Kurt followed, bringing the glasses and the chopsticks.

"Either way, I just hope you made me look good. My agent says I can't afford bad press."

They both laughed. Kurt was currently involved in an online web series about gay men living in New York trying to make it on Broadway. It was a scripted show with a huge following that was currently in the works to become a television show. Kurt was essentially playing himself, but was generating a lot of buzz in the gay scene and theater world.

Mercedes took a bite of her spring roll before speaking. "So what is it that you just HAD to tell me when I walked in?"

Kurt's eyes widened excitedly as he set his plate on the dark wood coffee table. "Speaking of small-town, Lima's McKinley High Glee Club is having a reunion in two weeks!"

"What? Why? Someone getting married?"

"No." Kurt shook his head. "It's just that we all realized we haven't seen one another in about eight years. "

"We see Rachel often," Mercedes offered. Rachel Berry was currently living her dream as Eponine in Les Miserables. She lived in New York, Manhattan to be exact, in a decadent apartment paid for by some anonymous patron. Those were her words. Mercedes knew better. The girl was nothing if not determined. She probably found some rich old theatre coot to pry her legs open and was giving up the 'Funny Girl' in exchange for the glam life.

Whenever she had a free day she would call Kurt up for "girl time". She never actually invited Mercedes, and after the first few times of Kurt dragging her along, she stopped going. Rachel was living with her head in the stars, and Mercedes wasn't about to play that game with her. She'd come a long way from the girl in New Directions aching for a chance to get the fuck out of Rachel Berry's shadow. She wasn't about to go there again.

"Rachel doesn't count, and you know it" Kurt replied. "Wouldn't it be great to see everyone again?"

She shrugged. "I guess." If she were more honest with herself, Mercedes would admit that the reunion sounded like a good idea. She legitimately did miss her New Directions family. Everyone was spread across the country. When high school ended, the usual promises of keeping in touch were made, and at first it was easy thanks to Facebook, Twitter, and Skype. There were some people like Tina and Kurt who she remained in constant contact with. Quinn, when she was in actually in the country was always good for a talk on camera. Santana, the occasional phone call; and even Finn (which was a line of thinking she wasn't even about to get into).

Kurt rolled his eyes as he drained his wineglass. "Listen, we all decided we're going back and since Puck is the only one who still lives in Lima, he's organizing everything."

Mercedes cocked a dark eyebrow at that. "Puck? Organizing?"

Kurt shrugged. "Apparently he's all grown up, now. He's the one who called about the idea. So far he's gotten a hold of Mike, Tina, Artie, Britt, Santana, and hell even Quinn's elusive ass. They're all coming."

"Anyone else?"

"Well I have to call Rachel, and I'll leave Finn to you." He shot her a sly side-eye and smirked. "Oh, and don't worry. Sam Evans will be there too."

Her heart gave an almighty lurch at the mention of his name, but she was determined to keep it cool. "Okay then."

It was Kurt's turn to cock an eyebrow. "'Okay then'? I tell you Sam Evans is gonnabe there and all you have to say is 'okay then'?"

Mercedes shrugged, her food suddenly becoming interesting.

_Her history with the Southern blond was long, most of it good, some bittersweet, and nothing short of unforgettable. The summer before their senior year was the absolute best. She basked in the summer glow of her first real relationship. Sam was her first love, her first fuck, and her first heartbreak. Their summer of love was cut short when his dad finally got a job, but it was out of state. They said their goodbyes, kisses sealed with promises of writing letters, webcam dates, and late-night phone conversations. _

_It was good at first, and Mercedes thought she could handle it, until things got harder. Long distance relationships suck, especially when you're seventeen and it's your first major relationship. And as much as her heart was with Sam, they both realized that the distance was too much. They parted ways, both admitting defeat but never goodbye. _

_She was content to start her senior year fresh, and was doing just fine until a certain blond breezed back into McKinley, jump-starting her heart and bringing some much needed life back into her. They rekindled their friendship and soon old feelings surfaced. One night after a particularly rousing Rachel Berry party involving a serious amount of alcohol and a game of Kings, they reconnected in the floral-patterned basement bathroom._

_Falling back into a relationship with Sam was easy. Besides Kurt, he was her best friend. Senior year was bliss, but the reality of life after high school loomed over them like a dark cloud. Mercedes was determined. She'd wanted to go to NYU since she was a little girl. Journalism and Music were her future. Her relationship with Sam was making her question a lot of things. Their status was further thrown into jeopardy when Sam got a baseball scholarship to a college in Pennsylvania. _

_Mercedes knew that another bout of long distance wasn't in the cards for them. Luckily, Sam agreed. They held on, through graduation and most of the summer until it was time to part ways in August. Her mind drifted back to that night, Sam's F150 parked at the lake, the two of them lying in the bed, gazing up at the stars. He kissed her sweetly before grinning, his lips quirked in an adorable lopsided fashion. "You think we'll ever get this right Cedes?" he asked. _

"_Who knows, Sammy? Maybe we've had our chances."_

"_I don't believe that. I think there's still something left for us. "_

_Her eyes gazed up at his and the amount of hope in them clenched her heart. He couldn't do this to her. To them. "Don't hold out for a pipe dream, Evans. Whatever happens, happens."_

_Sam's lips slanted over hers, and she couldn't help but moan. "Our story isn't over, Ms. Writer" he whispered against her lips. "I love you."_

"_I love you, too" she admitted softly. "Always have." Their kisses deepened and she found herself gasping for air when he finally pulled away. _

_Sam's green eyes were intense as he hovered over her. "We're going our separate ways, but you'll never be far from my heart, Mercedes. Just think of this as 'To be Continued'."_

"Earth to Mercedes…diva!" Kurt's fingers snapped in front of her face, effectively dragging her ass from Memory Lane. He smirked at her once more, his blue eyes glinting. "I can only imagine where you wandered off."

Mercedes shot him a dirty look. "Okay, so it would be good to see Sam again."

His look was triumphant. "I knew it! When was the last time you guys talked?"

"I don't know. Maybe a few months ago." It'd actually been almost two years. She still kept tabs on him. They were friends on Facebook and followed each other on Twitter. After college he played in the minors for a bit until putting his Graphic Design and business majors to good use, creating an online webcomic about a badass female who hunted zombies in a post-apocalyptic society. He was in the process of turning it into a series of graphic novels as well as working on another online comic series.

Needless to say, she was insanely proud of him. She meant to keep up contact, but life had a way of taking over and chucking intentions out the window. He was never too far from her thoughts. As the saying goes 'you never forget your first love'.

"Well I know it would be good to see him again. If only to make sure he still isn't putting that damn lemon juice in his hair. That boy wasn't fooling anybody."

Mercedes chuckled as she sipped her wine. "You are such a catty bitch."

"Of course. But that's why you love me." Kurt glanced up at the block before gasping loudly. "Shit, I have to meet Blaine midtown. Rehearsal should be over soon. "

"Where are you guys headed?" She watched as he bounded down the hall to his room, no doubt switching outfits.

"Some bougie gay club filled with snobby twinks looking for a Daddy to seduce." Kurt yelled back. "But it's good for me to go and build up buzz for the show."

"Sounds about right." Mercedes snatched up her phone and checked to see if the ringer was still on and functioning.

"I hope you aren't going to stare at your phone all evening. Don't sweat it, Mercy. You'll get the call."

"I know. I guess…I'm just bugging."

Kurt did a quick spin to show off his outfit. When Mercedes gave the thumbs-up, he smiled and continued. "Well un-bug, please. For now, just focus on our reunion. I can't wait. Don't forget to call Finn," he added.

Mercedes waved him away. "I won't, promise. And Kurt…let's just keep this Finn business between us, okay? No one else knows."

He rolled his eyes as he threw on a silver and black cardigan over his outfit. "Listen, I don't even really know what the hell went on between you two, so your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks. Now get the hell out." Blowing her a big kiss, he dashed out the door.

With a loud sigh, she rose from the couch, carrying the plates and glasses and setting them in the sink. After putting away the leftovers she padded down the hallway and into her room. Her inner sanctum was the one place Kurt's design taste didn't touch. It was her haven, her small place of peace in her busy world.

The walls were a rich deep purple, with gold and black accents. Kurt joked that it reminded him of a brothel in the French Quarter, but she loved it. She headed to the bathroom, gathering her natural waves into a sloppy ponytail before washing her face.

Mercedes stared in the mirror, looking for a glimpse of that diva from high school. She was still there somewhere, but life had definitely changed her. There was a hard shell around that innocence and it was practically unbreakable. Her warm brown eyes held a bit of sadness in them, something she was never really able to get rid of.

It was loneliness.

She should have recognized it; in high school she was always lonely. Being the big, black diva in a small town full of white folks, she quickly learned that what she had to offer wasn't really on the menu. Too much hips, breasts, ass, and attitude. No one took the time to really see her.

Until Sam Evans.

A small smile danced on her lips at the thought of Sam until guilt took over. She should have made the effort to keep in touch. But what good would that do? They hadn't been in each other's lives since high school. They didn't want to do the long distance thing. In the process of starting over in New York, she'd lost her good friend.

But maybe he was right, that summer night years ago. Maybe their story wasn't over. "Fuck," she cursed. This reunion hadn't even begun and already it was doing her head in. With an exasperated huff, she stalked out of the bathroom and over to her dresser. She changed quickly into a pair of grey leggings and navy tank top. Realizing she left her phone in the living room, Mercedes headed for the couch.

She was putting this off all night, but she supposed it was now or never. With a sigh, she scrolled through her contacts before finding Finn's number. Mercedes chewed the inside of her cheek as the phone rang.

"Hello?" A sharp, shuddering thrill raced down her spine at the sound of his voice, no doubt gruff from sleep.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, feeling stupid. Of course she did.

"Not really," he said with a yawn. "I was watching TV and kinda dozed off for a bit. Practice kicked my ass today. What's up, gorgeous?"

Mercedes winced. "Kurt wanted me to call and let you know about the New Directions reunion. It's two weeks from now."

Finn chuckled lowly. "A reunion? Thought that only happened after ten years?"

"Well it's Puck doing everything, so apparently we're going for eight."

"Oh." There was a small silence on the phone and Mercedes heart began to race. Was it always this awkward between them? "Are you going?"

"Kurt's really excited about it. And I guess it would be good to see everyone again."

"Like Sam?"

Mercedes practically hissed as the awkward elephant in the room stepped out and danced a jig. "That's not really any of your business, Finn" she said defensively.

"Isn't it though?" he countered. There was a bit of an edge in his voice that was very unlike him. It made her heart clench.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to get into it with you. But let's just leave that alone."

She heard his long sigh on the phone and immediately regretted the call. Shit with them was so damn tense.

"I'm sorry too. I just miss you, M.J."

Mercedes couldn't help but smile at the familiar nickname. "I miss you too. You know my door is always open. You should stop by."

There was a brief pause and some rustling. She could tell he was still on the couch, his large body sprawled out, limbs askew. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said quietly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think I could be alone with you and NOT think about being inside you."

She let out a shaky breath as her slim brown fingers clenched the phone tighter. Yeah, this call was definitely a mistake. "Finn," she started.

"I'm sorry. Just stating facts. I really do miss you. But I think it's best if I keep my distance."

"Does that mean you aren't coming to Ohio?" She didn't know why she was pushing so hard, especially since she wasn't so sure she was even going.

He exhaled slowly and she could tell he was getting frustrated. "I don't know yet, M.J. I have to check my schedule and make sure shit is clear. Two weeks from now is kind of short notice."

"It is. I'm really sorry if I'm putting you in an awkward position. It was never my intention." She hoped she sounded sincere.

Finn chuckled. "We've never had an issue with positions, M.J." They both laughed. "I'll be fine, really. If my schedule's good, then I'm in. It'll be nice to see everyone again."

"Even me?" she whispered.

"No doubt. We'll always be friends, M.J. Never forget that."

Mercedes let go of the large breath she seemed to be holding in. It felt like a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. "You're a good guy, Finn Hudson."

He gave a sad laugh. "That's me. Good guy Finn. Tell Kurt I'll call him later. I should probably talk to Puckerman to get the details."

"Okay." Even though she felt relieved, there was still a slight feeling of tension between them. But given the nature of their relationship, Mercedes supposed that feeling wasn't going away any time soon.

"Something else on your mind, gorgeous?"

Mercedes smirked. The boy was perceptive. Just another one of his many good-guy qualities. "If you do show up, I think it's best if we keep our history quiet."

Finn was silent for so long she thought he'd hung up. When he spoke again, the sound startled her. "If that's what you want," he said.

Shame immediately flushed her cheeks. She'd humiliated him. "Finn, no don't take it that way. I'm not…"

"No need to explain, gor—I mean Mercedes. I got it. No worries."

"You're not a dirty little secret, Finn."

His laugh was mirthless and she flinched. "You don't have to pacify me, Jones. I'm a big boy. I knew what I was getting myself into."

The thick silence crept up again and Finn cleared his throat. "I gotta go. Early practice tomorrow and I need to get some sleep."

"Okay," she said softly. "Finn, I…"

"Leave it, Mercedes" he said firmly. "Just…leave it. I'll talk to you later."

He ended the call before she could say another word.

Mercedes let loose a long shaky sigh. How the hell did things get so messy? If things were tense now, she wasn't sure she could survive a reunion.


	2. Chapter 2: One Step Forward

**AN: Thank you for all your reviews and comments. Fanfiction is new territory for me, and I'm trying to do these wonderful characters justice. I'm going to try and update every other day or so.**

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><p><em>"I'll say it straight and plain<em>  
><em>I know I've made mistakes<em>  
><em>I've always been afraid" <em>

–_Polaris, Jimmy Eat World_

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><p>Mercedes woke the next working with a pounding headache and a guilty heart. Last night's conversation with Finn was awful. Hurting his feelings wasn't her intention, but it happened. It made her ache. Despite their lack of contact, she cared about him.<p>

She just wasn't ready to admit what those feelings meant.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Mercedes tried to reassure her conscious that she did the right thing. Rehashing her history with Finn, especially in front of New Directions would only lead to unnecessary drama.

What would Sam think, a small voice in her head whispered nastily.

She tried to shake that train of thought loose. It wasn't anyone's business. High school was over. She didn't owe anyone an explanation for the way she lived her life. But she would try to apologize to Finn. Maybe that would ease her mind and stop the damn headache.

Rolling over, she reached for her phone resting on the nightstand. She was surprised to see a few messages. Her heart skipped a beat when she opened the text from Finn.

**Sorry about last night. I was kind of grouchy from lack of sleep and having my ass handed to me on the field. You know how spring training goes. I understand. I'll call later. –Finn**

Mercedes breathed a sigh of relief before typing back a quick reply.

**You really are stellar, Finn Hudson. Call me soon. –M.J.**

She checked the rest of her messages, one from her mother and another from Tina, who was super excited about the reunion. Mercedes had to smile; she missed the girl and her bubbly spirit. After high school Tina headed north to Berklee College to study music and theory. She was only a train ride away in Massachusetts, which made it a little easier to keep in touch. Currently she lived in Chicago, still going strong with Mike and composing music while Mike taught dance and toured with his group. They had a life Mercedes envied, love, stability, and comfort. How lovely to find your soulmate at such a young age.

"Mercy! Are you awake?" Kurt knocked on her door.

"Well I am now," she quipped.

Opening the door with a flourish, Kurt stepped inside. "What the hell are you still doing in bed? It's almost eleven."

She shot him a dirty look. "Hummel, it's Saturday. I'm not leaving this bed until I absolutely have to."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Get up and get dressed. Blaine is here. We're going to book the tickets for our flight to Ohio and then we need to go shopping for our trip. Before we know it, the big day will be here and you can't go back home looking like a damn hobo."

"So you're trying to say I normally look like shit?" she said testily.

The pale man cocked an eyebrow. "Really? That's all you got out of that. No you look fabulous, and we have to continue your fabulous streak by buying all new clothes."

"Listen, Kurt I'm not trying to go crazy with it."

He waved away her protest with an angry swipe of his hand. "Don't worry, I'll stop you from getting too out of control."

"Ha!" she exclaimed, sliding out of bed and stuffing her feet into a pair of flannel slippers. "Since when did the inmates start running the prison?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought. I know you want to sit and brood over the phone call from this editor, or Sam Evans, or my adorable but aloof brother…but no. I'm putting my foot down. You are GOING with me and you WILL enjoy yourself." His tone brooked no argument and the look on his face was deadly serious.

Mercedes considered pushing his ass out of her room, locking her door, and spending the afternoon drinking and listening to Fiona Apple until she realized (1) she did that last weekend (2) Kurt would no doubt snatch her weave for it. It was best to just humor him. Besides, obsessing over the phone call wouldn't make it happen any sooner. She shot him a small smile. "You're right."

"I know I am. Honestly this melancholy is getting ridiculous. You're reaching Joey Potter levels at this point."

She flinched dramatically. "There's no need to get hurtful, Kurt."

His grin was wide. "I just miss my best friend. Blaine doesn't speak bitch as fluently."

"Poor baby. You had no one to help you make fun of people last night."

"Sadly no. Throwing shade isn't fun when you don't have your partner in crime. That's why I need you in Ohio. Quinn and I can't make fun of Rachel on our own."

They both laughed. "Boy please. Santana will do enough of that for everyone. But I'm going to grab a quick shower before we start the day."

"Sounds good. When you're finished, Blaine made a breakfast quiche."

"How fancy!" she shouted from the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later she was dressed and scarfing down a scrumptious spinach and sausage quiche. "So where are we headed today?" she asked in between bites.

Kurt sipped from his chai tea before answering. "I think we should check out some of those vintage shops downtown. I love you in big prints and colors."

Mercedes held back a grimace. "So long as you don't have me looking like a jumbo pack of Crayola, we're good."

Blaine grinned. "I am really excited about this trip. This is the first time all of us will be together in eight years!"

"Makes you feel old, doesn't it?" Mercedes joked.

"Bite your tongue," Kurt said playfully. "I'll be young forever, soon as I find that fountain of youth Rob Lowe seems to be sipping from."

The trio shared a chuckle. "Don't you wonder what everyone's been up to? I know I'm curious."

Mercedes shrugged, trying to keep her demeanor casual as she forked a thin slice of chorizo into her mouth. "I guess."

Kurt scoffed. "Mercy's trying to play it cool, but we all know she's anxious to see a certain blond baseball player."

The look she shot Kurt would have iced a lesser man, but Kurt Hummel wasn't ruffled by his best friend's mood swings.

Blaine's look was reassuring. "It's okay to miss him, sweetheart. You guys did have a long history."

"Can we switch topics, please? I'm really not about to hash out old feelings."

"Speaking of old feelings," Kurt interjected. "Finn called me this morning."

They eyed one another, sizing each other up. Mercedes didn't want to fight with Kurt. The downside to beefing with your best friend was that they knew all your weak spots. A shouting match with the man would turn ugly quick as they both tried to verbally sink the other's battleship.

Instead, Mercedes bit back her snark and tried to keep her voice even. Blaine shot Kurt a warning look, something that was not lost on Mercedes. Of course Kurt would tell Blaine. While even her roommate didn't know the particulars, the idea that he just went ahead and blabbed her business to his boyfriend didn't surprise her in the least. That's how he was. He probably thought Blaine could help.

Didn't they realize that it was her mess alone to clean up?

"Oh?" was her only response. Her coffee-colored eyes focused on her plate. Suddenly breakfast wasn't so appealing.

Kurt nodded. "He mentioned you guys talked, and that you told him about the reunion."

"Oh."

"He sounded really…odd."

Mercedes lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. "Odd? Like how?"

Kurt shook his head. "I'm not sure; just off. " He was quiet for a moment, almost as if he were trying to choose his next words very carefully. "Did…did something happen last night?"

That was the question she'd been dreading. "It was nothing, really." That's right, keep it casual.

Blaine and Kurt watched her, saying nothing but their eyes were speaking volumes. The lie sounded weak, even by her standards.

"Fine," she said with a huff. "Because I honestly can't handle both of your 'judging you' faces. I told Finn that if he does show up that we should keep the extent of our former relationship quiet."

Kurt sighed with relief. "Oh? Is that all? I thought something else went down."

Mercedes shot him a look. "How, Kurt? Finn lives in Philadelphia. It wasn't like he hopped in his car and drove here for a booty call." Her mind reeled at what she'd just said. Yeah, no way that would happen. Only it had. Several times, in fact.

"Well when you put it like that…"

She got up from the table, needing to get away from their curious looks. Like it or not, Finn was a part of her past and there was no use in running. Avoiding the situation would only hurt him and cause her more anguish. "I think asking to keep it quiet hurt him."

Kurt's look was sympathetic. "Well that's definitely a possibility. But I think maybe Finn's just as confused as you are about your…situation. I think it's time you guys had a talk."

Mercedes nodded. As usual, Hummel logic was on point. At that moment she wished she could talk to Tina. Her advice was pretty good too. But then she realized that no one but Kurt (and now Blaine) knew. "Thanks, Kurt. I suppose I needed some perspective about the whole thing. I just don't want this reunion to be awkward."

The two men laughed. "Honey, it's New Directions. Awkward will always be our thing. There's too much history between all of us to not make getting together a festival of secondhand embarrassment. "

He got up and moved to hug her, squeezing her tight in his arms. "The good thing is, you won't be alone. You **need **to do this, Mercy. You need to go back and see Sam and also work shit out with Finn, because until you do, you will continue to skate by instead of actually living your life. Don't think I haven't noticed you going through the motions. You're not here, and you haven't really been for quite some time. I allowed it because I thought you needed space to work out your feelings. I didn't push questions on you about your history with Finn, but apparently giving you that space was a green light for you to fortify that Kevlar you wear over your heart. It's time to stop this and own your fucking happiness before it's too late."

Kurt gently brushed away her silent tears and kissed her on the cheek. "It's too early in the day to be this upset," she said, giving him a watery smile.

He chuckled. "Girl, I was just tired of your ass sulking all over the house. Worrying about you was giving me wrinkles and I couldn't allow that."

The two friends laughed. "Well leave it to you to snatch my weave."

"Always, boo. I'm the only one who will tell you about yourself."

He shook out his shoulders. "Now that all of this is out of the way, can we please go shopping? I think retail therapy followed by frozen yogurt is in order."

* * *

><p>Mercedes had been dreading the day when they would have to leave for Ohio. Luckily, her work in New York kept her fairly busy. She had a ton of writing to do for Wrecked before she could leave. Her boss was being fairly cool about the situation, seeing as how she was talking almost two weeks off to go gallivanting in Lima of all places.<p>

By the start of the second week, she still hadn't heard from Victoria's editor friend. She tried to convince herself that it was okay; after all, the story was still several hundred pages short of an ending. Instead of worrying that the editor hated it, she tried to channel her frustrations and fears into finishing the story.

Many late nights followed and her writer's block was persistent. It was as if the well of creativity has suddenly dried up, leaving her thirsty and desperate. Add that to the stress of this upcoming trip, she was emotionally and mentally spent.

Kurt was practically bursting with energy. He was in her room, bouncing on the bed while she showed off possible outfits for the trip.

"Kurt," she whined when he vetoed her favorite pair of jeans. They were completely ripped to shreds, but they were super comfy and cost about five bucks. She was never getting rid of them. "I really don't want to do this."

His response was a hefty roll of his eyes. "Well serves you right for waiting until the last minute to pack."

"But we don't leave until late tomorrow morning! It's not my fault you've been ready since Tuesday."

"Look Mercy, you need to look hot. You're a semi-successful writer slash up-and-coming artist. You need to shine." Moving her aside, he rummaged through her closet, reaching deep in the back before pulling out several spring blazers. "Now pack these, some cute jeans, a bunch of those dressy tops, sensible flats, and some 'fuck me' heels. You should be good after that."

Mercedes did as she was told, adding one of her favorite print jersey dresses to the mix. "Why the heels?"

She regretted asking the question when she saw the mischievous glint in his eye. "You never know what kind of situation you'll find yourself in, Miss Jones."

"Oh god. You're ridiculous." Laughing, she tossed in a pair of black platform stilettos. Just for fun she added a black party dress. It was flirty and short with a tutu-like skirt that had several layers of purple tulle underneath. The top was strapless with a sweetheart neckline. It was totally 80s and made her feel young and hip.

Fifteen minutes and two fashion freakouts later, Mercedes was finally packed and ready to go. Kurt downed the last of his wine, thoroughly exhausted from the excursion.

"Okay, so Blaine has the tickets and he's bringing them tomorrow when we meet at the airport."

"Yes," Kurt said with a nod.

"Our plane will get in around three in the afternoon and Puck is picking us up. Are you staying with your parents or at mine?" Her parents were going to be there for her arrival, but were leaving the following Monday for a cruise in the Bahamas.

"Are you sure you want to stay alone for a week? You know you could always crash as Casa de Hudson-Hummel."

Mercedes did think about staying with Kurt, and would have agreed…but she didn't want to take the chance of running into Finn. The thought of the two of them sleeping under the same roof was a cauldron of bad. "I think it's best if I keep to my own house. I'll be fine."

"Okay. Well I think everything is set. We should probably turn in early, rest up for the big day." He clapped his hands excitedly. "I'm so happy we're doing this. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Somehow she was finding it hard to trust that.

* * *

><p>"Jesus Christ, Noah! Do you think you could try not to kill us before we even reach Lima?" Kurt's hand was wrapped tight around the 'oh shit' handle bar. His skin was blanched, save for two rosy spots on his cheeks.<p>

Mercedes had to laugh as Kurt tried to slap Puck upside the head while still clinging to the bar. She was in the front seat of Puck's Explorer while Blaine and Kurt were buckled in the back. Blaine was casually reading a magazine while Kurt was swearing bodily harm to Puck whenever they stopped.

"Sorry Kurt!" Puck exclaimed cheerfully. "Thought you'd be used to fast driving living in the big city and all."

"This was a bad idea. I knew we should have rented a car. I am not driving around Lima with…Dale Earnhardt Junior."

Puck shot him a wide grin. "I had no idea you knew about NASCAR. Cool points to you."

Mercedes laughed again. "Stop antagonizing him, Puckerman." She punched him lightly in the arm. "Slow the down before the boy has a heart attack."

Kurt shot Mercedes a grateful look before popping Puck in the neck. "I would appreciate getting to my parents' house in one piece!"

"Then don't hit the driver!" Puck rubbed the back of his neck. "That really fucking hurt, dude."

"Aww poor baby." Mercedes indulged him, rubbing the spot tenderly.

Puck grinned, his hazel eyes gleaming wickedly. "You know a kiss would make it better…"

Mercedes slapped him on the same spot, chuckling when he winced with pain.

"Come on, not you too Mercy!"

"You definitely deserved that, Puckerman."

"I see some things haven't changed. Still bossy and mean as ever." He smiled affectionately at her. "I missed you guys."

She was really glad to see him. It'd been far too long. After high school Puck was the only person to stay, going to the local community college and working at the pool cleaning business. He eventually transferred to Ohio State and graduated with a degree in sports nutrition and physical therapy, shocking the hell out of everyone. He worked at McKinley, teaching health and wellness and was the resident physical therapist for the sports teams. He had dreams of opening his own practice, at least that's what they learned on the ride from the airport. Mercedes felt guilty over the excited look on his face when he spotted them. Puck was a good friend to her in high school; she should have made the effort to keep up with him.

But it was too late to go back. All she could do was work to change the present.

"We missed you too," Mercedes replied, rubbing his head affectionately. "Thank god you finally got rid of the 'hawk."

His response was a sheepish grin. "Yeah. Lauren said it looked like I was wearing roadkill for a hat."

That caught her off guard. "Wait, Zizes?"

"Yeah…we've been dating for about a year now."

Mercedes was shocked. "Wow. Puck, I had no idea."

He shrugged. "It's cool. We didn't want to make a big deal of things. She came to town after college. We started hanging out. Things just moved forward from there. It's nice, getting that second chance, you know?"

Mercedes' stomach flipped at his words. "Yeah…"

"Well enough of this mushy shit! You guys ready to party, New Directions style?"

Blaine chuckled. "Does that mean shitty wine coolers and karaoke in Rachel Berry's creepy basement?"

Puck laugh was loud. "We're adults now. We can upgrade from the Boone's Farm. Speaking of Berry, I'm surprised she didn't fly with you guys. Doesn't she live in New York, too?"

His question earned him an hefty eye roll from Kurt. "The Divine Miss Berry is flying in on her patron's private plane. No doubt she'll be arriving fashionably late and in high style."

Puck cocked an eyebrow. "The fuck? She's definitely feeling herself."

"I think that old dude of hers is doing all the feeling," Mercedes quipped.

"Haha! That was so wrong" Puck said. "Alright, New Yorkers. Here we are…home sweet Lima!"

The three of them craned their necks, glancing around the town. Mercedes hadn't been in Lima for nearly four years. Her parents came to visit her in New York. It was amazing how the town still looked the same.

"God, it all seems so small and pedestrian" Kurt said. "I think the Lima Bean still has the same sign."

"Makes you feel nostalgic, doesn't it?" Blaine asked as they passed Breadstix. "Just think about how many celebrations, deep conversations, and first dates we all had at Breadstix."

Mercedes cast a shuddering glance at the familiar green sign. It didn't make her feel nostalgic. On the contrary; a wave of sadness overtook her as flashes of Sam forced its way into her stream of consciousness: sitting in the booth of Breadstix, her legs sticking to the red vinyl of the seats, Sam's fingers shyly clutching hers as they split a pasta dinner. He always insisted on sitting next to her, even if it was just them.

Her eyes closed briefly, remembering the smell of his soap. It was spicy and clean and made her nose (and other parts) tingle. It was never overpowering, but she loved being surrounded in that scent. Sam loved to be close, and couldn't resist sliding tight next to her.

Stop it, she scolded wordlessly. Stop it now.

Opening her eyes, she realized everyone was staring at her. "You okay, Mercy?" Puck asked, concern written on his handsome face.

"I…I'm fine," she replied lamely.

"You were doing this weird wheezing noise. We thought you were having a panic attack." Blaine touched her shoulder, gently.

"I'm alright, guys. I promise."

She could see Kurt opening his mouth, no doubt ready to fire off questions but she shook her head slightly. Not now, she pleaded silently.

Kurt gave her a small smile before turning to Puck. "What's on the agenda tonight, Puckerman?"

"Well, I figured I'd drop you off at your respective destinations so you can get settled in. You guys are the first ones here. While we wait on everyone else, you can chill with your families Later tonight everyone's coming to Puckerman Palace for a nice dinner and general fuckery. So rest up."

"Oh I can't wait!" Kurt said. He'd stopped holding on to the handlebar and was now bouncing excitedly in his seat.

Thankfully, Puck dropped Mercedes off first. He helped her carry her bags to the front porch before gathering her into a big hug. "I missed you, Mama" he whispered.

Mercedes laughed. "I haven't heard that name in a while. Since our fake relationship."

The dark-haired man smirked. "Best fake relationship ever. I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too," she said sincerely.

"And don't worry. We're keeping it drama-free for the reunion. Or at least to a minimum."

"I really hope so."

"Get some rest. I'll see you later. I would help you inside, but I think your dad wouldn't approve."

She smiled wide. "You realize he doesn't hate you, right? He was just trying to call you out on our bullshit relationship."

"Girl, I'm not taking any chances. Mr. Jones might be old, but I know he's still got that shotgun in the hall closet." He kissed her on the cheek before jogging back to his car.

Rifling through her purse, she fished out her old house keys. Before she could unlock the door, however, it swung open.

"Well it's about damn time!" Mercedes grinned at the woman who could have been her older sister. Irene Jones was well into her fifties, but she didn't look a day over thirty. Like her daughter she was a rich milk chocolate color, her skin smooth and clear. Her eyes were lively and she always wore a big smile. She was only a bit taller than Mercedes and she possessed the same curvy figure.

Looking at her Mom, Mercedes couldn't help the stinging tears. It was so good to be home. "Hey Ma," she said softly.

Irene's smile grew wider as she gripped up her youngest child in a fierce hug. "Girl bring your ass into this house! We've missed you so much!"

Mercedes stepped into her childhood home and was once again assaulted with the past. Holiday gatherings, birthday parties and sleepovers…it was all coming back to her.

Her mother wheeled in her suitcase with the carryon bag on her shoulder. "Ma, let me get that," she said.

"Nonsense" Irene replied, waving her away. "I'll get your Daddy to take these up for you. Tony! Tony! Mercy is home!"

"Woman, why do you feel the need to shout down the entire house when I'm only two doors away?" Her Dad emerged from his study. He was an opposing figure; well over six feet and built like a linebacker. But she knew behind that gruff appearance her Dad was a big ol' teddy bear.

His handsome face lit up with a smile at the sight of her. "My Sunshine is here."

"Hey Daddy." She chuckled when he pulled her into a hug before lifting her up. "Daddy put me down! I'm too big."

Tony Jones laughed before setting his youngest daughter down. "Never. You'll always be that little girl in pigtails who loved to sit in my lap and sing."

Her heart fluttered. Her parents were truly amazing. Once again, she felt a twinge of guilt. She should have come home more. She missed her parents, and even her older brother. Trey followed in their father's footsteps, becoming a dentist. He currently lived in Houston with his wife and two daughters.

She had a late lunch with her parents, catching up on the latest news in the family. They questioned her about the New Directions reunion. Mercedes kept her answers light and easy. Thankfully her parents didn't ask about Sam. She wasn't ready to share her feelings. Truth be told she was both anxious and dreading seeing him again. She also didn't tell them about her book. Her embarrassment over getting her hopes up was still too fresh.

Her parents had plans with a few of their friends, so they left shortly after. Mercedes decided she needed a nap. She had a few hours before she had to go to Puck's. Thankfully her parents didn't get rid of her old Highlander, so didn't have to risk her life driving with Puck.

Stepping into her room was a surreal experience. For the most part it still looked the same. Each wall was a different color: purple, turquoise, black, and an accent wall covered in zebra print wallpaper. She shook her head. Her taste in decorating had changed considerably. There were posters everywhere of her favorite movies: _Dreamgirls_, _Casablanca_, _Gilda_, _Carmen Jones_, _Pulp Fiction_, and _Foxy Brown_. Huge framed posters of The Smiths and Whitney Houston hung side by side. A dusty record player sat in a corner next to decorative crates filled with vinyl. Pictures of her were everywhere; family photos as well as her New Directions crew.

All of it was strange and familiar. It was like stepping into a time capsule of her life. High school was frozen behind the door, and walking inside triggered the thawing of memories. Mercedes sat on the bed, her fingers tracing the black and white patterned comforter with the gold fleur de lis accents.

It was a rich tapestry of her love with Sam. His face was everywhere, green eyes smiling at her through countless pictures. She breathed in deep before exhaling slowly. It was too much. All of it was just too much. So much happened in this room with him. It was their place; the bed held the memories of her first time. He was so gentle, touching her as if she would break. They were both nervous and awkward. He fumbled with the condom. She remembered his grin as he watched her orgasm, his name tumbling breathlessly from her lips. Images sped up in her mind, moving rapidly to form a mental home movie starring Mercedes, Sam, and their love: cuddling on the bed, endless popcorn and movie nights, listening to Sam play his guitar, her fingers running through his cornsilk hair as she sang him to sleep, Sam's hips thrusting, pushing deeper, drawing deep gasps of pleasure from her throat…

"Fuck," she cursed. Everything was a trigger. Thinking on Sam, on their love…it was painful. But the pain was necessary. She had to do this. The hurt had festered too long. It never healed properly. She was healed properly.

Mercedes fell back on the bed and allowed her eyes to drift close. She could worry about what those feelings meant after a nap. She just wanted to zone out.

Instead she fell into a restless sleep, the past haunting her even in dreams.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Next chapter: A flashback to Mercedes' first intimate encounter with Finn, New Directions come together, Party at Puckerman Palace, Sam's POV, and does Finn actually show up? Stay tuned.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: You Can Go Home Again

Sam Evans was obviously a crazy person, a glutton for punishment, or a unique mixture of both. It was the only reasoning he could think of for driving to Lima. It was well over 200 miles from his apartment in Pittsburgh to Lima, leaving him roughly four and a half hours to mentally prepare himself for this reunion.

For seeing her again. His fingers clutched the steering wheel tightly, his heart racing at the thought of Mercedes. Eight years since their relationship, and he still thought about her. Every day, in fact. Not obsessively. He was able to get on with his life, and most of the time he was content. But at night, at night it was worse. His work schedule kept him busy and stopped his mind from wandering, but when the late hours crept in, lying sleepless in bed, he would think on her.

He knew she was in New York, living in Brooklyn with Kurt. He followed her on Twitter, friended her on Facebook. Through social media, he watched her, felt her experiences, and missed her deeply. It was pathetic and even a little creepy, but it was all he had. Something deep in him was holding him back from reaching out to her. He kept her number in his phone all these years, but he doubted she still had the same Ohio line. She was a New Yorker now, and he wasn't sure she had a place for Lima by way of Tennessee in her life.

There it was; his biggest fear. He had convinced himself years ago she was destined for great things and deserved far more than he had to offer. Throughout their entire relationship he was never able to provide for her. Money that should have gone to movie dates, dinners at Breadstix, and shopping trips to the bigger cities was spent on keeping food on his family's rickety motel room table.

His first departure nearly killed her. It definitely broke both their hearts, but they understood. It was no one's fault, just the way things were. They both tried so hard to be diligent; he wrote her pages of letters, played guitar for her on webcam, and talked dirty to her at night when she whimpered softly about missing his touch. Whatever she was feeling couldn't compare to the all over ache that stayed with him. Going without her kisses, her sweetness…it was torture. He couldn't feel love through the phone and he missed the feel of his hands gliding over her silky skin.

They made it all the way to mid-fall when he realized he was being selfish. She deserved better than this. Better than him. She deserved more than nights crying into her pillow over a poor bastard like him. And as much as his heart hurt at the mere thought, he had to let her go. Maybe he would come back to her, but she deserved more than maybe.

Sam could still hear her cries when he ended things. It was shitty, breaking up with the love of your life via phone. But she was in Lima, and he was in Kentucky, and there was fuck-all either one could do about. His resolved almost wavered when she broke down in earnest, huge gasping sobs like her heart was breaking. Sam bit his lip hard to stave off his own waterfall of emotion, but soon he was crying with her.

"Sammy, please—please don't do this. I need you. I need you so much" she was crying so hard, it was difficult to make out most of her sentence.

Through his own tears he reassured her that she'd be alright, that eventually she'd find someone new who'd be able to give her what she needed, treat her like a queen, and shower her with all the things she deserved that he couldn't provide.

That phone call was hard, but life post-Mercedes was absolutely unbearable. He found himself living like a zombie, going through the motions. Sam focused his pain into school and art. He stepped up his efforts to keep busy by joining the baseball team. Football was fun, but baseball was his second passion (music and comics were always tied for first place). When work at Dairy Queen wasn't enough, he stepped up and put his body to good use, working at the local male revue. It wasn't ideal, but the pay was stellar and it helped with the family income.

He was barely existing, just going through the motions until Finn and Rachel showed up and asked him to come back. Truth be told, he didn't give a damn about singing for Sectionals, but his heart practically thumped out of his chest at the prospect of seeing her again.

Mercedes.

Returning to McKinley was easy. Seeing her again, and with a new man was difficult. But Sam was persistent with his love and patient with his affection. Naturally she was hesitant to let him back in. He could tell the wall was up over her heart in all matters concerning him.

Sam chuckled as he recalled all the ways he tried to show her how he felt, that she was still his, and that she never ever left his thoughts or his heart. It took plenty of convincing and a lot of angst but eventually she had realized that despite her feelings for her boyfriend, Sam was it.

As he passed the 'Welcome to Lima' sign, Sam Evans' heart was hopeful. Just like that late-fall day years ago, an opportunity arose. Maybe this was his chance. The least he could do was see her and see if the spark was still there. Through all this time, all the years of not having her in his life, Mercedes Jones had never left his heart. During his sleepless nights, he wondered if he should try to contact her, but fear stopped him. Maybe there wasn't a space in her life anymore for him. It was cowardly thinking, but he wasn't keen on putting himself out there again. They were different people now; time and circumstance had made sure of that.

She was even in his work. His popular webcomic Wasteland was his baby, and the main character was a feisty badass named Marina Jensen who made zombies her bitch with a trusty kitana and a shotgun. Her likeness was Mercedes through and through, from the creamy milk chocolate complexion to her amazing ass and big doe eyes. Through Marina, he channeled all his love and the result was Eisner Award nomination for Best Webcomic and a job offer from Marvel Entertainment.

The job, as a lead inker and artist was a dream come true. After high school, he went to university in Pennsylvania and worked in the local comic book store. When college was over he played ball in the minors for about two years before he got a job in a graphic design firm. By day he was a lowly, mild-mannered web designer. But at night, he came alive, creating a myriad of characters and worlds. He took all his longings and frustrations and poured his heart into art.

When he got the call from Puck about a New Directions reunion, he knew it must have been a sign. It was fate. It had to be.

Sam sighed. He needed to see her. Maybe then he'd be able to get some clarity on the situation.

By the time he pulled into the driveway of Puck's modest home, early evening had settled in. There were several other cars in the driveway and he could hear raucous laughter from inside. Shit must already be underway, he thought.

With a determined gleam in his olive eyes, he stepped out of the car and walked quickly toward his destiny.

Within twenty minutes after arriving at Puck's, Mercedes didn't know why she was even stressing about the reunion. Though everyone hadn't been in the same room altogether in years, the feeling of camaraderie and family fell into place. Being back with New Directions was like slipping into a pair of old slippers, comfortable and familiar.

"Oh god, Mercedes I can't get over how good you look!" Tina hugged her excitedly as soon as she entered Puck's tastefully decorated home. The manly furniture was all rustic and leather with a slight feminine touch. This had to be Lauren's doing.

Mercedes tightened her hug, smiling broadly at the pretty Asian girl. "You look good too! How's life in Chicago?"

"Really good! I'm doing theater work there and also composing music on the side." Tina's brown eyes sparkled. "I'm working with a film friend of mine who's interested in using some of my pieces in his movie."

"Oh my god, Tina that's so awesome!" she hissed excitedly. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Mercy. I don't want to make a huge deal out of it, but I'm super pumped and couldn't wait to share it with my New Directions family."

She was insanely proud of her friends and their accomplishments. Mike was fresh off a tour with his dance group. Brittany was a kindergarten teacher by day, and dance instructor on the weekends. She and Santana were still together, although there was a rough patch where the two of them had split for a few months. They lived in California, where Santana was one hell of a litigator. In her spare time she volunteered at a shelter, teaching music to inner-city youth.

Surprisingly, Quinn had surfaced. Mercedes missed her blonde counterpart. She was a photographer, shooting everything from the Egyptian rebellions, to fashion shoots in Milan. Mercedes never would have guessed it about the blonde, who was known to be very self-absorbed and a little off balance. She left Yale her junior year, cashed in her tuition check and bought a camera and a plane ticket to Europe. She spent years traveling and taking pictures, posting them on her personal travel blog. Eventually she caught the attention of the right people and now she was being paid to be nomadic. It was through her journey of self-reflection that she finally had the courage to come out.

She had called Mercedes on the phone, the line crackling as she tearfully owned her sexuality. It had been damn near four in the morning in New York, when she called from Paris, but Mercedes had listened with more patience than she thought she'd ever possessed. She made sure to reassure Quinn that things would still be the same between them, and she would never stop loving her.

Since then their friendship grew closer, and while they didn't always see one another, they promised to make time.

Mercedes glanced around the room at her former classmates. Artie, whose latest indie film was currently a Sundance Festival darling was chatting to Rory and Sugar, who were clutching hands tightly. Their relationship was strange, but they seemed happy. And even Matt Rutherford was there, arguing with Puck over the stereo and trying to convince Mike to have a dance battle.

She missed this. She missed all of them. They were her family, the one place where she always felt accepted and loved.

"Everything okay, Mercedes?" Tina's eyes were filled with concerned.

"What?" she snapped out of her daze, only to realize her cheeks were wet with silent tears. "Oh hell," she huffed.

"What's wrong?" Kurt was by her side quickly. "What happened?"

Tina shook her head. "No idea. One minute we were chatting, the next she zoned out and started to cry. Is she okay?"

They both rubbed her back in soothing circles. "I'm fine guys," she said. "I'm just really happy to see everyone. I guess I never realized how much I missed our friendships."

"Oh Cedes," Tina hugged her tightly. "Well next time don't stay away so damn long."

Kurt kissed the top of her head, his fingers stroking the soft curls. "You'll be fine, love. I'm glad you finally see what I've been telling you. You needed this."

Just then Lauren breezed into the living room. "Alright guys. Who are we missing?"

Everyone glanced around the room. "Looks like everyone is here except for Trouty Mouth, Finn, and Rachel" Santana replied.

"Sam was never one for showing up on time," Quinn said with a smile.

"Well shit," Lauren said. "Dinner's almost ready. Should we start without them?"

"That might mean more food for us. I'm sure Trouty still eats like a starving refugee," Santana said.

"He texted me about forty minutes ago, saying he was nearby" Rory offered. "I wonder where he could be?"

"Maybe he stopped to get chapstick?" Brittany asked aloud. Heads turned simultaneously in her direction before everyone burst out laughing.

Mercedes shook her head, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. Some things never changed.

Everyone was back to chatting and before long the doorbell was ringing. Mercedes' breath caught in her throat as Puck jogged over to the door. She purposely planted herself in the furthest corner from the door so she would be paranoid, but that didn't stop her heart from thumping wildly in her chest.

It's him, she thought silently. I know it. Sure enough, Puck shout of joy could be heart from the foyer.

"Sam Fuckin' Evans! Damn, it's good to see you!"

Mercedes braced herself as the two men's voices traveled closer. Everyone let out a chorus of 'Heys' as Sam entered the living room.

She gripped her water bottle tightly as she laid eyes on her first love. Time had been very good to him. He was slightly bigger than the boy she kissed goodbye after high school, and though she sorta stalked him on Facebook, his pictures didn't do him justice. Sam was always an amalgam: abs of an underwear model and a nerdy side that would put a thirteen year old comic geek to shame. A boy-next door personality with a body clearly designed for sin.

It always thrilled her.

Mercedes watched as he greeted everyone with giant hugs, anticipation rising as he got closer. Her throat suddenly went dry as he stopped in front of her. The same half-smile greeted her warmly as his olive-colored eyes lit up. "Well it if isn't my favorite diva," he said, his grin wide.

Her smile matched his as she let out a chuckle. "Hey Evans."

Sam's full lips pulled into a mock pout. "What? That's it? Get over here and show me some love, girl!"

Mercedes stepped into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist as he gripped her shoulders. She let out a small breath, reveling the familiar feeling of being back in his arms. She missed this.

"I missed you." She wondered if she had spoken aloud but quickly realized that confession came from him.

She tried to hide her smile. "I missed you too, Sammy."

"Alright, alright. Let's break this love-fest up. You two can hump each other's legs later" Santana said, a playful smirk on her pretty face.

Mercedes glared at her as she felt Sam's arms drop from her shoulders. Stepping back, she rolled her eyes at Santana. "I can already see I'm going to have to tell you about yourself before this week is over."

Santana shrugged before smiling widely. "Whatever. You love me."

"Same old Santana. Some things never change." Sam winked at Mercedes, who immediately wondered where he was going with that.

Thankfully Puck interrupted their conversation. "Well now that Princess Samantha has finally arrived, I'd say it's time to eat."

"Wait, what about Rachel and Finn?" Tina asked.

"Woman, I am starving" Artie said. "They can eat at Arby's for all I care."

A few minutes later they were all seated in Puck's impressively large dining room. The table was big enough for all of them to sit comfortably. Mercedes sat in the middle, Quinn on one side and Tina on the other. Directly in front of her was Sam.

Dinner was delicious; Lauren made two large pans of lasagna as well as homemade garlic bread. Everyone was singing her praises. "Oh my god," Santana exclaimed. "Zizes this bread is so on point."

"Better than Breadstix?" Mike joked.

"Blasphemy," Santana said.

Mercedes chuckled. So far, the reunion was going just fine. The guilty feelings over ignoring her friends were diminished. All this time, she stayed away because she thought the memories of high school would stop her from progressing, never realizing that leaving Lima meant she was abandoning her friends. She tried not to think about the past. Focus forward, she thought silently.

As she reached for her merlot, she caught Sam's gaze. He'd been silently watching her since they sat down. Whenever she caught him looking he would throw a small smile her way and duck his head.

All those feelings for him that she bottled up long ago were suddenly spilling out into present day. The Diva and the Loner were suddenly thrown into co-existence and she wasn't sure how to process all of this. But she acknowledge the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach every time a pair of curious green eyes fixated on her.

"You realize you're staring, right?"

Sam glanced to his left to see Kurt studying him, a hint of an amused smile on his pale face.

"Am I? I didn't notice."

Kurt snorted with disgust and Sam grinned. "Just wait until after dinner before you pounce on her, Samuel."

"What? I haven't seen her in years, Kurt. I can't help it if I'm curious." His eyes drifted to Mercedes once more. She was deep in conversation with Tina and Quinn, practically giggling when Quinn whispered something in her ear.

He loved watching her; not in a creepy "I'm in the bushes with my pants around my ankles" kind of way. When they were dating she would do something, just a small little action, be it the way she flipped her curls over her shoulder or the cute little snorting sound she made when she found something hilarious…whatever. It would make him tingly all over.

That feeling was slowly coming back now. True, she wasn't the girl he fell in love with in high school. Her curves were still there, albeit slightly smaller from all that New York walking. She was sporting her natural hair now, which made him smile. Her hair was a mixture of waves and curls and looked incredibly soft. Despite all her mature beauty, there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Sam found it puzzling.

"Is everything okay with her?" he asked Kurt.

Kurt sipped his wine slowly before responding. "Seems like a question you should direct to her, no?"

"In other words, shut the hell up and stop pumping you for information?"

The pale man smiled. "Atta boy. See, I knew you weren't a dumb blond. And speaking of blond, I'm liking this new hair much better. At least we know you still aren't putting lemon juice in there."

Sam chuckled. "I missed you too, Kurt."

Mercedes was well overdosed on good times. After everyone had eaten their fill, there was a group effort in the kitchen for clean-up. Artie was made supervisor, which basically meant he yelled a lot and threw napkins when people weren't moving fast enough, prompting Santana to shout "Listen Wheels, this isn't one of your movies. No one hired you as Director of the Kitchen!"

The two of them hurled playful insults at one another, cracking everyone up. From time to time Mercedes' eyes drifted to the clock in the kitchen. It was well after ten and Finn still wasn't there. Maybe he really wasn't coming. Her heart sank a little at that.

After kitchen duty, the group retired to the game room. Puck's set up was impressive. The large flat screen was a dream and the entertainment center housed plenty of movies and gaming systems. After much debate, the guys settled on playing Mortal Kombat while the girls turned on music and drank wine.

During a hilarious dance sequence featuring pop and lock moves by Artie and Matt, Quinn plopped down on the couch next to Mercedes. "Hey girly" she said, threading her fingers through hers.

"Q, are you tipsy already?"

The blonde smiled. "Not at all. I just miss having you around."

There was an explosion of cheers from the boys as Kurt completely killed Puck onscreen. The well-dressed man pumped his fists in the air before shouting "Flawless Victory!" causing everyone to crack up.

"Bullshit," Puck said between gasps of laughter. "I demand a rematch."

"Come on, Puckerman. My man kicked your ass fair and square" Blaine said, high-fiving an over-excited Kurt, who had started a rousing chorus of 'We Are the Champions' with Rory and Sam.

"Yeah, just go ahead and take the L already sweetie!" Lauren called out.

"This isn't over, Hummel." Puck's phone rang in his pocket and he quickly answered. "What? Hold on. Everybody shut up for a second!" he shouted.

The room grew quiet as he finished his conversation. "Guess what, the last piece of the puzzle is here!"

"Oh, are we doing puzzles next? Because I totally will kick everyone's ass in puzzles." Once again the room shot Brittany a collective glance of 'what the fuck' before erupting into laughter.

"Hold that thought, Britt. I'm gonna go get our boy!" Puck jogged out of the room and up the steps.

Mercedes' eyes met Kurt's and he shot her a reassuring smile. The idea of both Sam and Finn in the same room together was messing with her emotions. But no matter what, she would play it cool. She smiled back.

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Puck announced. Mercedes stared as Puck walked in with Finn and surprisingly Rachel.

"Thank you for the introduction, Noah" Rachel said, a mega-watt smile plastered on her face. She tossed her coat aside to reveal a stunning designer cocktail dress that Mercedes knew cost a pretty penny. "Well hello, fellow New Directions alums! It's so lovely to see all of you."

There was a bit of chaos for a few minutes as everyone gathered to greet Rachel and Finn.

"So you two arrived together?" Sugar questioned. "That's really weird."

Finn shot a glance in Mercedes' direction and she cocked an eyebrow in return. "Well, uh…"

Thankfully Rachel stepped in. "What Finn is trying to say is we met at the airport. Apparently my flight from New York and his flight from Philadelphia arrived at the same time. I saw him outside waiting for a cab and offered my car and driver to him."

"You have a car?" asked Artie, an incredulous look marring his handsome face.

"But of course. My patron hired a personal driver for my stay in Lima."

"Patron?" Rory repeated.

"She means her Sugar Daddy," Santana stated bluntly. She eyed Rachel with something akin to respect. "Well done, Berry. I would have thought all those years of sleeping with the Puffy Wonder here would have turned you off men completely. But it seems there is a bit of street-girl smarts hidden under that hideous old-lady wardrobe of yours."

There were a smattering of chuckles as everyone tried to hide their laughter behind their drinks.

Rachel seemed unruffled. "Oh Santana. How I've missed your pedestrian snark. The humor on Broadway is seriously droll. Most of it is centered around cultural quips and anecdotes. It's a nice change of pace to be around low-brow humor."

The diva was not dead in Mercedes, and she could spot an insult a mile away. Rachel came for Santana without even breaking her smile. She had to admit, the girl had gumption.

For her part, Santana looked like she was about to puff up for one hell of an explosion, but before she could really get into her groove, Puck stepped in. "Alright ladies, play nice. It's the first day."

"Yeah," Lauren chimed in. "Besides, we just put new carpet in and I don't want Berry blood on my Berber, despite how epic said fight would be."

"Speaking of epic, I propose we sojourn back to Mortal Kombat." Kurt elbowed Puck. "I believe someone is waiting for me to kick his ass again."

"Oh you are so on, dude. This is payback for you slapping me upside the head earlier."

"Well if you'd just learn to drive like a normal human being…."

The majority of the group headed back to the couches. Suddenly thirsty, Mercedes headed upstairs to the kitchen. She'd just grabbed a bottle of water and taken a sip when she felt him enter the kitchen. "Hey Finn," she said softly.

"Mercedes."

She glanced at him. It'd been almost eight months since she'd seen him. His job usually kept him busy. Finn was a rising star in arena football, playing for the Philadelphia Soul. There were talks about him eventually moving over to the NFL. Spring training was currently in session and on top of that, he hosted a sports talk radio show.

"How have you been?" she asked genially.

He stared at her for a brief moment before replying. "Okay, I guess."

"Work keeping you busy?"

"Always." He raised his hands, as if reaching out to her but quickly put them back at his sides.

Mercedes sighed. This was really too much. "Look Finn, I'm glad you're here. I don't want this to be weird between us."

Finn's brown eyes met hers; the look in them was unreadable. It was such a stark difference from a certain green-eyed person she knew. With Sam, she was always able to tell what he was feeling. But Finn was another matter entirely. It was always a guessing game.

Stop comparing them, she chided silently.

"I'm not trying to make things weird," he finally said. His tall frame leaned against the doorway. "Mostly I'm just trying to make sense of everything. I just miss you so much, and I guess I just need to get over it."

"Finn," she started. The man was never big on feelings and emotion, but once in a while he'd sneak attack her with a truth bomb and it would leave her feelings completely open. "Look, I miss you too. But what we had…it's in the past."

He looked away briefly, mumbling under his breath. She couldn't catch it all, but she could have sworn he said "it doesn't have to be."

Before she could open her mouth, voices carried up the stairs. Sam and Kurt entered the kitchen. "Mercy! There you are" Kurt called out joyously. His face was flushed cherry red and he was holding on to the crook of Sam's elbow for dear life. Sam seem unfazed, as if lanky gay men using him as a human lean-to was a normal, everyday occurrence.

"You hidin' up here with Hudson?" Sam drawled. Mercedes could tell he was a buzzed. The alcohol always had a way of loosening his tongue and bringing out that Tennessee twang.

"We were just catching up," Mercedes said quickly, earning a cheeky guffaw from a drunken Kurt. She shot him a nasty look before turning her attention back to Sam. She couldn't help but admire his build in a navy Henley that clung to his muscular arms and shoulders and dark wash jeans. Her eyes flickered to his only to find he was watching her again. "What's up?" she asked.

"Nothing much. We just wanted to see where you disappeared to. After Kurt kicked Puck's ass in Kombat again they decided to play a round of Kings. Shit got ugly when Rory knocked over the cards and had to drink from the center cup."

Kurt chuckled. "For an Irishman, he can't handle his liquor. He's like a wee bitty leprechaun. I just want to put him in my pocket and set him out for parties to entertain my guests."

Finn snorted at that and Mercedes smiled too. It was good to finally see him laugh at something for a change. His eyes met hers and he quickly looked away. So much for his mood improving, she thought tiredly.

"Well that sounds like a blast."

"Yeah," Sam said with a nod. "So anyway, I think things are wrapping up for tonight. We're supposed to be going to Mr. Schue's house for a late lunch tomorrow."

"Oh that should be fun" Mercedes replied.

"Mercedes, drive me home!" Kurt commanded.

"Yes, my liege. Anything else?"

"You stayin' with your folks?" Sam inquired.

She nodded. "They're leaving for a cruise tomorrow. So I'll be alone."

"Oh shit!" Kurt exclaimed. "Party at Mercy's!" He attempted to do a shimmy, but ended up clutching Sam mid-way through.

"Bro, are you going to be okay?" Finn asked gently.

"He should be fine," Sam said. "He's gonna have a helluva hangover tomorrow though."

"Where are you staying, Sam?" Mercedes asked.

"Here, with Puck and Lauren. It'sgonna be me, Rory, Sugar, and Matt here. Mike and Tina are staying with her folks, Artie's with Kurt, Santana and Brittany have a hotel room, and I think Quinn mentioned something about staying with you."

"Well I guess that's settled. We should probably get ready to leave."

"Sounds good." Sam gently removed himself from Kurt's clutches and passed him to Finn. "I'll leave you to him. And I'll go get Quinn and Blaine for you."

"How hot is he?" Kurt whispered. Well, it was more of a stage whisper that the whole house could hear. "Girl, you need to get back on that. Like now."

Mercedes cringed as Finn's jaw visibly tightened. "Um, Kurt…let's just tone that down."

Before she could scold him further the rest of the gang appeared, Quinn carrying Artie's wheelchair as Puck lifted him in his arms. Everyone headed into the foyer to say their goodbyes.

"Who the hell entrusted my precious body to this drunk motherfucker here!" Artie yelled.

"Shut up man," Puck shouted as he stumbled. "I got you. Just stop talking so loud!"

Artie shook his head, his eyes shining brightly. "Boy you messy as fuck right now."

Mercedes tried not to laugh as Puck set Artie into his wheelchair with the kind of grace only a man drunk off his ass could achieve. "Alright guys, who's riding with me?"

"Is it cool if I stay with you, Mercy?" Quinn asked. Mercedes waved her question away.

"Of course. You know your room is always open." There was a brief moment of confusion and noise as people hugged goodbyes. Rachel was leaving as well, her private car whisking her away to no doubt the finest hotel in Lima.

"Do you need a ride?" Mercedes asked Finn.

He shrugged. "I mean, since you're going that way." She looked at him again and saw a brief smile.

"Come on, help me get these drunk ass knuckleheads in." After waving goodbye to Puck, everyone headed out.

"'Cedes! Wait up" Sam called, jogging out to meet her. She tossed her keys to Quinn so she could unlock the doors.

"What's up, Sam?"

His green eyes shone in the dim moonlight as he gazed down at her. Mercedes felt her breath catch as he stepped closer. "Well, I was thinking….I know this is supposed to be a New Directions weekend, but I'd be lying if I said I don't want to spend some alone time with you. So about we hang out tomorrow morning? Like after breakfast?"

Her heart fluttered at his question. The thought of being alone with Sam was both exhilarating and terrifying. But she supposed this was why she was here. Maybe being alone with Sam would help her to see where they stood. They would finally have a chance to talk and hash everything out. Smiling up at him, she nodded. "I'd like that very much, Sammy."

He beamed at the familiar nickname. "Cool. I'll text you tomorrow. Kurt gave me your cell number; I hope that's okay."

"It's no problem. I'll be waiting for your call."

He shot her another broad grin before kissing her chastely on the cheek. "Goodnight, 'Cedes" he whispered, his sweet beery breath tickling her ear.

Mercedes let out a small sigh. "Goodnight Sam."

She walked to the car slowly, knowing full well he was watching the switch and sway of her hips. Thank God I'm wearing the cute tight jeans, she thought amusedly.

When she got to the driver's side, she was surprised to see Finn leaning up against the door. "Figured I'd drive since you were drinking tonight," he said.

"Oh. Well thanks Finn."

"No problem, Mercedes" he said tightly. Her body winced slightly at his tone. 'M.J.' and 'gorgeous' were nowhere to be found. It was strictly business between them, and it was all her doing.

She scrambled into the passenger side and buckled in. The car was packed. Quinn and Artie sat in the middle row, currently involved in a raucous jazz-style rendition of "No Hands" while Kurt and Blaine were in the far back seats, no doubt engaging in a scandalous makeout session.

"Everyone ready?" Finn called out.

"Drive the damn car, already you tall bitch!" was the response from Artie.

Needless to say the ride home was an adventure. Between Artie and Finn arguing over the music and Quinn singing loudly along to every song, Mercedes was ready to cut somebody. Thankfully they pulled up to her house before she had to break out her pepper spray and unleash the fury.

"I'll drop your car off tomorrow" Finn said.

"Okay. Thanks for taking everyone home."

Finn chuckled. "Thanks for not cutting us. I saw that stabby look in your eye."

Mercedes smiled. "So true. See you tomorrow." She grabbed Quinn out of the backseat with her bags and practically frog-marched her to the front door. After getting the blonde settled in the guest room Mercedes finally fell back on her own bed.

Tonight had been fun, but exhausting. And it was only the first day. Sliding off the bed, Mercedes made her way to the adjoining bathroom, stripping out of her clothes and washing her face. She quickly changed into a pair of black sleep shorts and a purple long-sleeve t-shirt. After putting up her hair, she finally slid into bed, sighing contentedly.

Her mind was all geared up for an overanalyzing session, but the alcohol finally started to kick in and she found herself drifting into a deep sleep.

Brooklyn, 2018:

Finn Hudson wasn't the type of guy to complain. He'd come a long way since the kind of puffy, slightly douchey teenager he was in back in Lima. Leaving the small town for Rutgers University in New Jersey forced him to grow up quick. Playing football for the university taught him humility. He wasn't the top dog in Lima anymore. This was real life. When the NFL didn't come knocking his senior year, Finn did the next best thing and went to the AFL. It wasn't as glamorous, but he was slowly making a name for himself.

He was really lucky. He had a job he liked, a nice place, and fans. Until one day he realized just how lonely it really was, being Finn 'Ironman' Hudson. Girls came and went, but no one special stayed around long enough. His last major relationship was Rachel Berry and he swore on a bottle of whiskey and a stack of faded Sports Illustrated magazines that he would never go back to that basket of crazy.

Rachel was sweet, but her determination was scary. He admired her gusto and drive to chase after her dreams but wasn't keen on playing third fiddle to theater and music in her life. Her Broadway aspirations always came first and he was expected to follow behind and get the hell out of the way. He wanted to love and support her, and for a while after high school, things were fine. She was at NYADA and he was only so far in Jersey. But as the theater parts grew, their long-distance relationship diminished so much that in the end they were practically strangers.

In the end they mutually gave up the ghost. It was no use trying to revive something that had long been dead. He didn't want to hold her back and he didn't need her shoving him into the background just so she could shine. After their breakup, Finn saw no need to return to New York, save for the occasional visit to Kurt. After being drafted to the Philly Soul and moving to the city, he was busy with adjusting to his new surroundings, kicking ass on the field, and meeting all the pretty ladies the City of Brotherly Love had to offer.

It was during a particularly long break that he found himself back in the Big Apple. Kurt had practically begged him to visit, promising to take him out everywhere and he couldn't resist. Truth be told, he missed his brother. The pale man insisted that he stay with him and Mercedes, reassuring him that their couch was plenty comfortable.

Finn was actually happy to see Kurt. He and Mercedes made sure he ate well and whenever they finished work for the day, they planned a variety of activities. This particular evening found them at a posh club, courtesy of Blaine and some VIP passes he scored from his director. It was a popular Manhattan hangout for theater types, and Finn felt a little out of sorts.

As he sipped his vodka tonic he noticed he wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable. Mercedes' gaze darted back and forth, her eyes judging all the fuckery around her. He had to chuckle, even when his eyes dropped down to her generous cleavage currently on display. She was wearing an emerald satin dress that clung to her dangerous curves like second skin. The strapless sweetheart neckline allowed for the girls to sit up proudly on display and Finn was definitely taking notice.

Whoa, he thought. That must be the alcohol talking. This was Mercedes; she was practically a sister to him. He'd honestly never thought of her in that manner but that dress was doing something to his thought process because at the present, the only thing he wanted to do was slip his hand underneath her hemline and figure out whether or not she was wearing any panties with that dress (all signs pointed to 'no'). Sure, she was attractive. He'd always thought so. But back in the day, she was with Sam and he was with Rachel and any thoughts of her were automatically put into the friend zone.

But things were different now. He was single, and so was she. This wasn't McKinley High, and he didn't have to answer to anyone. Her chocolate skin glowed under the pulsing club lights and he felt his mouth water. Was she as soft as she looked? He hoped so. When he dared to lift his gaze higher he found that she was watching him.

Color flushed his cheeks as he panicked slightly. She must have known what he'd been thinking. Thankfully she didn't seem to care, only shooting him a small smile before sipping her champagne. She came over to where he was and they made small talk for a bit while taking in their surroundings. Blaine and Kurt were off schmoozing or "building their brands" as Kurt succinctly put it.

It wasn't even twenty minutes later when Kurt came into the VIP area and announced that Rachel had made a grand entrance with an older gentleman. She'd recently come off a stint in an original play by Jesse St. James that was generating a ton of buzz. While he was over that particular part of his life, he didn't fancy spending a night with the young woman and her penchant for theatrics.

"I think I'm gonna head back to your place, if you don't mind" he said to Kurt.

Kurt nodded. "Okay. We'll all leave. I don't want you walking these streets alone."

Finn rolled his eyes. "I'm a big boy, Kurt."

"I know! But do you even know where you're going?"

"I'll take him," Mercedes spoke up.

Both men turned to look at her, eyes wide with surprise. She simply shrugged. "I'm kind of tired and I really don't want to deal with Rachel right now. Don't worry. I'll make sure Finn doesn't get lost."

They said their goodbyes and quickly left the club. The night air was chilly, and when Mercedes started to shiver, Finn removed his suit jacket and draped it across her shoulders. She shot him a small smile of gratitude before slipping her tiny hand into his larger one.

He was surprised, even as he hailed a cab and gave the address. Their fingers were laced together all through the ride; the only time she let go was to unlock the front door of the apartment.

Once inside, she kicked off her heels and handed him his jacket. "Thanks again," she said huskily.

Finn gulped audibly before choking out "You're welcome."

"I'm gonna go change, but I'll be right back."

"Okay," he said, feeling slightly stupid. He watched her walk down the hallway, her hips twitching seductively. Finn cleared his throat and tried to get images of her wiggling ass out of his mind.

When she entered the living room fifteen minutes later, he'd already changed into a pair of baggy black basketball shorts and was pulling a faded red McKinley gym shirt over his head.

He heard her small gasp at the sight of his naked torso and grinned. Gone were the days of "Puffy Finnocence". All the workouts, training and eating right had helped him to bulk up. He wasn't totally ripped, leaning towards beefy, but the cuts of his muscles were still visible.

Puling the shirt down, he watched her. She looked so much younger out of her "grown and sexy" wear. Her curls were pulled back, her makeup completely gone, and she was wearing a pair of tight grey shorts and a tie-dyed t-shirt. So much of her was on display and he couldn't help but eye her thick thighs and her toes which were painted a bright pink.

"Do you have enough blankets," she asked softly. He had never heard that tone from her before. It made her seem vulnerable and sad.

Finn nodded. "Yeah. Although this couch is not big guy friendly. I feel like a giant trying to get comfortable in a dollhouse."

She cracked a smile and his heart raced at the sight. She really was gorgeous. "Well…you want, you can sleep in my bed. It's pretty large."

The look on his face must have been one of complete shock because before he could respond she was cursing. "Fuck, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, no" he replied quickly. "It's okay. I appreciate the offer. I just don't want to inconvenience you, or make you feel uncomfortable."

She shot him a look. "Boy, please. If I were uncomfortable, I wouldn't have suggested it." Her arms crossed over her chest and he would be lying if he said her sass wasn't turning him on.

"Okay, okay" he said with a chuckle. "You win."

Mercedes smiled triumphantly. "I always do."

He followed her into her bedroom. Mercedes turned down the blankets and fluffed the pillows. "I sleep on the left side, if that's okay."

Finn nodded. "That's fine." They both got into bed, careful not to brush against one another. Mercedes turned out the lights, casting the room in darkness, save for the dim glow of the moon peeking through the gold and black curtains.

He closed his eyes, settling into sleep when he felt her fingers reach out for his, grasping them tightly once more.

"Goodnight Finn," she whispered.

"Goodnight, gorgeous."

Hours later he awoke suddenly from sleep. It was pitch dark; his eyes focused on the clock next to the bed, the red light glowing with 3:30AM.

Finn looked down and noticed the reason why he jumped from sleep. Mercedes had moved closer to him, cuddling her body close. In fact, she was practically on top of him. It'd been a while since he had a woman so near, and his body was reacting to her softness.

But he couldn't focus on that at the present moment, because the woman in his arms was quietly sobbing into his chest.

Finn's heart nearly broke at the sound of her soft tears and before he could stop himself, his hand was reaching up to stroke her hair. Mercedes gasped at the contact.

"I'm sorry," she said, gulping down tears. "I didn't realize you were awake."

"I wasn't" he rumbled, his fingers threading through her hair. He figured her hair was safe territory, because his hands were itching to travel lower to her lovely ass. "What's wrong, gorgeous?"

Mercedes sniffled. "I just…I'm so lonely, Finn. I'm so goddamn lonely and it hurts."

Her pitiful confession cracked his heart. His lips brushed the top of her head. "Oh M.J. I know how that feels."

"I try not to let it get to me, but I miss feeling close to someone, you know? Reaching over in the night and knowing another warm body is there. I just want to feel wanted again."

He knew all too well how she felt, because most nights he was the same way. Restless; aching, craving the intimate touch of another person. Sex didn't mean shit if the person wasn't sticking around for the holding part afterwards, and he was tired of feeling disposable. "I miss that feeling of belonging to someone. Not them owning me, or anything, but that feeling of contentment when you know there's someone out there who cares for you as much as you do for them."

Finn snapped out of his train of thought to find her pensive brown eyes studying him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and to Finn she'd never looked more beautiful. "What?" he asked.

She said nothing, but inched closer, softly pressing her lips to his.

His heart thumped in his chest as she kissed him softly once more. They were feather light, and left him yearning. Finn drew her closer as he deepened their kisses. Mercedes moaned, letting him take over.

Her full lips were pillow soft and he could taste the traces of her toothpaste. When he nibbled on her plump bottom lip, she whispered his name and his dick twitched.

"Finn," she breathed again. Her hips began to grind in a tight circle and he swore he could feel her heat on his leg.

Large hands cupped her face as Finn's tongue sought entrance into her mouth. He moaned at her taste, causing her to move her hips faster.

"Finn," she pleaded. "Please."

"What do you want, gorgeous?" his voice heavy with need. He knew what she wanted, what they both wanted but he wanted her to say it. Once they crossed that line, there was no going back. Their relationship would be changed forever. But at the present, Finn didn't much care. Her pain was palpable and it was calling out to him, reaching deep inside and finding its match in his own loneliness. If anything, they would be two friends comforting one another intimately in their time of need.

Mercedes' gasps were short and sharp as she continued to hump his leg.

Finn moved swiftly, pinning her body underneath his. When she tried to arch her hips, he held them tightly. His lips moved back to her, pecking her lightly before trailing wet kissed down her jawline and the curve of her neck. "What do you want, M.J.?" he groaned. "Tell me."

She groaned at the tickling sensation of his warm breath on her neck. "It hurts, Finn."

"Where does it hurt, baby?" his hands traveled under her t-shirt, gliding over her warm skin. His moan was low when he discovered she wasn't wearing a bra. His thumbs brushed her nipples, and she cried out. "Say it," he whispered against her lips. "Say it, Mercedes."

He lifted her up to remove her shirt and his. She pulled him down, lips and teeth crashing together in a messy and desperately passionate kiss. "I need you to fuck me," she said throatily.

With a growl, Finn's lips left hers. He kissed his way down to her full breasts, taking a dark nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily. Mercedes hissed her approval. She pulled him back up for another kiss while her small hand snaked between them, cupping his erection.

"Fuck" Finn bit out. His brown eyes darkened with lust and he swatted her hand away before shoving his own fingers into her shorts. A single finger trailed lazily up her slit and she whimpered. He smiled.

Finn wasted no time, sliding a large finger inside her. Her moan was sharp and high as her slick walls clenched him tightly. She was incredibly silky and so wet. His mind was reeling with thoughts of being inside her.

Her hips moved, gently fucking his finger and he watched her silently. She was working herself so nicely. He bit down on her nipple and she gasped from the pleasure/pain sensation. When he added a second finger, it wasn't long before she hit her peak. He watched as her eyes rolled and she trembled, letting out a low, sweet whimper

Finn was still, gazing silently at her as she came down from her high. He kissed her deeply before nibbling her earlobe. "You are so fucking beautiful when you come," he whispered.

His words made her shudder. Finn slid his fingers out before bringing his essence-coated fingers to his lips and sucking them. The heady, sweet and tangy taste of her made his knees weak. Sitting up, he slid his shorts off his hips and freed his hard cock.

Mercedes lifted her hips, quickly removing her shorts. Finn guided his dick towards her soaking pussy, coating the blunt tip in her juices.

"Ohhhh," Mercedes moaned. "Finn, please."

He couldn't handle any more teasing either. Without ceremony, he sank into her wetness. They cried out simultaneously. Mercedes wrapped her legs around his waist as his hips began to thrust in earnest. There was nothing slow and tender about their sex. It was frantic, the frenzied pace spiraling them into ecstasy. He pounded hard; she was pressed tight against the mattress and his large body and it felt so unbelievably good. It'd been so long and he was fucking her so nicely.

Their kisses were fraught, the room silent save for their breathless moans and whispers. Before long, Finn could feel her orgasm again. He thrust harder, his own climax near. When her fingers tightened in his short dark hair, he lost it, spilling his essence inside her.

Finn dropped his head to her shoulder, trying to control his breathing but glad to hear her heart was beating just as loudly. She stroked his hair while peppering his neck and shoulder with soft kisses.

He turned slightly to gaze at her, brown eyes glazed with satisfaction. Their last kiss for the evening was slow and soft. "Thank you," she whispered against his lips.

"Thank you," he returned. Finn made to roll off her resting his head on the pillow. She followed him, pressing her naked body against his. His fingers twirled in her hair as they both fell into a comfortable sleep.

Hours later as daylight streaked across the sky, Finn crept from the bed and headed to the couch. He wasn't ready to explain to Kurt why he was in Mercedes' bed; truth was, he wasn't entirely sure what went down, but was grateful towards the brown-skinned beauty. It was exactly what they needed at the time. But now he wasn't entirely sure where this left them.


	4. Chapter 4: Secret Garden

**AN: Again, many thanks for your kind reviews! I enjoy hearing your comments, rants, and theories. So here's Chapter 4. Enjoy!**

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><p><em>I can't help it baby, this is who I am<em>  
><em> Sorry, but I can't just go turn off how I feel<em>

_-"Kill", Jimmy Eat World_

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><p>The smell of her Dad's famous stuffed French toast teased her nostrils. Mercedes groaned, burying herself deeper under the blankets. Her bed was so soft, and she really didn't feel like getting up, but that breakfast was calling out to her.<p>

Grudgingly, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Apparently the wine hadn't left her system completely, because she caught a slight spin on her way up. Mercedes pressed her fingertips lightly against her temples and massaged slowly.

She took great care into getting up from her bed and walking into the adjoining bathroom. Thankfully, the medicine cabinet was completely stocked; she measured out two ibuprofen capsules and swallowed them. While she waited for the meds to kick in, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. By the time she showered and dressed, Mercedes felt miles better.

She was just slipping her feet into a pair of glittery gold flats, when her door burst open. Quinn breezed in, a bright smile on her pretty face. "Oh, so you are awake" she said by way of a greeting.

"Thanks for knocking, Q" Mercedes said. She sat down at her dressing table and opened her makeup bag. "I could have been naked."

Quinn shrugged, throwing a sly grin her way. "Not like I haven't seen you naked before."

Mercedes smirked, turning towards the mirror. She expertly applied her makeup, keeping it minimal with kohl eyeliner to her upper lids and a hint of mascara. "You're quite chipper for someone who was drunk off her ass last night."

"I wasn't that drunk," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Okay maybe a little. Besides, I knew your dad would be up early, making his famous Saturday breakfasts. That sobered me up."

Indeed, she was looking bright and fresh-faced. Quinn's fashion sense had evolved since high school. Gone were the country-chic jeans dresses and eyelet baby doll wear. Traveling around the world gave her perspective on a lot of things, fashion included. She was definitely funky now, all exotic patterns and vibrant jewelry.

The dress she was wearing was a cross between an Indian sari and a knee-length peasant skirt, which she paired with dusty brown combat boots that were no doubt some vintage designer. Her arm was littered with dozens of bracelets that were patterned with traditional Indian designs. Mercedes loved her new haircut too. It was heavy on the bangs, and short on the sides, giving her an almost pixie-like appearance.

Mercedes smiled at her friend. "You look really cute today."

"Thanks. I was going to say the same thing about you. Getting all dolled up for breakfast?" There was a teasing glint in the blonde's eyes.

"If you must know, Ms. Nosy Ass I'm meeting up with Sam today."

"Mmm-hmm," Quinn said knowingly.

"What? What's that for?"

"Oh nothing. I'm just interested to see how long it's going to take before you two have reunion sex."

"Quinn!" she exclaimed with a small giggle.

The blonde smiled. "Listen, we both know it's inevitable. You two break up, reunite, shag like bunnies, go your separate ways, and then start the cycle all over again. It's the Samcedes way of love."

Mercedes shook her head. "I'm just trying to see if there's anything left to salvage. Eight years is a really long time, Q."

Quinn eyed her best friend. "Not if you really love someone. If it's love, you can wait forever."

She sighed. This was a really heavy conversation to be having on an empty stomach. "Do you really believe that?"

"Of fucking course I do," Quinn replied. "Mind you, I'm not talking about bullshit rom-com love. I mean scary love, the kind where you feel like you can't breathe at night, lying awake, thinking on someone so much that it's a physical pain. Like the thought of being with that person makes you feel sick and happy at the same time."

Mercedes was stunned by her answer. Not because it was ludicrous, but because it sounded quite plausible. "But love shouldn't hurt, Quinn."

"The good kind always does," she replied. "It's a bittersweet pain." Mercedes noticed the slight change in her friend's demeanor, but she chose not to push it. One never knew with Quinn; every day it was a test to see which side of her would appear. She'd come a long way since her lost days in high school, but that girl wasn't completely gone. Mercedes knew that Quinn Fabray's well of mysteries ran deep. The woman was a magician of emotions, showing only what she wanted others to see and almost never revealing the secrets behind her tricks.

Sometimes even to her best friend.

Quinn's stormy eyes quickly morphed back into a pleasant hazy green. "Forget it, okay? This is too heavy for so early a conversation, and on an empty stomach. Let's go gorge ourselves on French toast."

Mercedes wanted to object, but held her tongue. Besides, she had her own demons to deal with. She stood up and smoothed down her breezy navy sundress before linking arms with Quinn.

The two women headed downstairs, the smell of sausage and bacon making Mercedes' mouth water. There was laughter coming from the kitchen, as well as Nina Simone's husky alto singing softly from the iPod dock.

Mercedes was shocked when she entered the kitchen to find Sam seated on one of the stools at the island counter, laughing with her mom and dad.

Irene looked up. "Oh good morning girls," she said between chuckles. "I was just about to come upstairs and get you two."

"Morning, Mom" Mercedes said. "Sam."

Sam's eyes raked over her outfit, the approval all over his handsome face. "Good morning, Cedes," he rumbled. His large hands clutched a mug that no doubt held her mother's fresh-brewed caramel cappuccino. "I know I was supposed to call you, but I figured I'd take the chance and come over."

Quinn rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Whatever, Evans. You know you're here for the Tony Jones blue plate breakfast special."

Sam laughed. "Guilty. I smelled the stuffed French toast all the way from Puck's house."

"You weren't fooling us at all, son" Tony called from the stove. Quinn walked over, planting a kiss on the older man's cheek as she fell into her assistant role. Ever since her stay with the Jones family when she was pregnant, she was always Tony's right hand man in the kitchen. Mercedes loved that her friend took to her father, especially since she knew Quinn longed for a stable Dad figure in her life.

Mercedes was his 'Sunshine', and Quinn was 'Firecracker' and the two loved their Pops dearly.

"Well either way, we're glad to see you this morning. You and Sam can set the table, baby. We're having breakfast on the veranda" Irene directed at her daughter, pointing at the plates, cups, and cutlery on the countertop.

Mercedes grabbed the plates while Sam gathered the rest up and they headed towards the enclosed sunroom, located right off from the kitchen. It was one of her favorite parts of the house. It was full of windows and the sunlight streaming in made the room cheerful. Mercedes set the plates down and began to fix up the table, with Sam following her lead.

"I hope it's okay that I stopped by," he said as he finished arranging the cutlery. "I couldn't sleep and figured I'd take the chance that you'd be awake."

She glanced up at him, her brown eyes meeting his green. "It's fine. I'm happy to see you. Plus I'm sure everyone was still knocked out from last night. You were looking for food."

Sam laughed, his nose scrunching adorably and Mercedes couldn't help but grin back. He really was remarkably handsome. The years had been incredibly kind to him, and he was looking delicious in a fitted grey v-neck tee, dark jeans, and checkered Vans. On his head was a slouchy grey beanie and he was sporting at least a week's worth of scruff but it only served to enhance his 'grown man swag'. In many ways he was still her Sammy, the goofball she loved dearly in high school. He was still in there somewhere under the trappings of adulthood.

By the time they finished, Quinn was bringing out a platter of French toast and sausages. Sam moved to help her and she eyed him warily. "No sneaking food, Evans" she warned, nothing but amusement in her tone. "We all know how you are."

Sam's eyes were wide with mock innocence. "I seriously have no idea what you're talking about, Fabray."

"Please," Mercedes said with a snort. "We can't leave food unattended around you. I remember we almost came to blows once because you ate my last slice of pizza when I wasn't looking."

"You didn't look like you were going to finish it," he replied easily, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Sam, I turned away to answer my phone and by the time I looked back, you'd stuffed the whole thing in your mouth!"

The trio laughed. "Remember that time we were all out and he took the last breadstick?" Quinn said. "I thought it was the beginning of World War III when Santana finally noticed."

Mercedes giggled as Sam wrinkled his nose. "I can't believe that you guys still remember that," he said. His fingers reached out for one of the sausage links, only to be promptly slapped on the hand by Quinn. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. "It's not fair to torture a man with such a delicious spread when he's slightly hungover."

"You just have to wait like the rest of us," Mercedes said. They went inside to help bring out the rest of the dishes, laughing and joking the entire time. A few minutes later everyone was seated and bowed their heads as Tony said grace. After a chorus of 'Amens', the group dug in.

"Mmm," Mercedes moaned after a bite of the stuffed French toast. "Daddy you have no idea how much I've missed your breakfasts." Indeed, her father (and Quinn) had cooked up a mini-breakfast feast. Besides the French toast there were sausage links, bacon, hash browns, and spinach and gouda omelettes. Mercedes was in heaven.

Tony chuckled. "Well you know I had to do something nice, now that my girls are home," he said, smiling at his daughters. "How's the job going, Firecracker?"

Quinn grinned. "Pretty good. I just got back from assignment in Australia. I might be heading to London next for the Travel Channel. They want me to do a food tour of some famous London eateries."

"That's wonderful, honey" Irene said. "You should bring back some recipes for Mercedes. Lord knows she could use them."

Quinn and Tony shook with silent laughter as Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Mom…"

Sam, who was seated next to her, glanced up. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Still can't cook, huh Cedes?"

"Shut up! I can cook."

"I distinctly remember the time we were supposed to make dinner for Glee Club and someone nearly burned down this very kitchen," Sam reminisced.

Mercedes blushed at his words. Sam Evans was not playing fair. Yes, the kitchen almost caught fire that day, but it wasn't from her lack of cooking skills. She was distracted by a mischievous blond who decided their time was better spent having silent but rough sex against the counter than keeping an eye on the food. Her eyes traveled to his and he shot her a knowing smirk, reading her thoughts.

She had to grin; the cheeky bastard was playing dirty, but she wasn't going to sin her soul in front of her parents. "Your memory is faulty at best, Evans. I'm a decent cook."

"Sure you are, baby" her mother patronized.

Quinn shot her a sympathetic look. "It's alright, Mercy."

"Thanks, Q. I'll have you know I've cooked for Kurt plenty of times."

"And he lived to tell the tale?" Sam joked, earning him a jab with her butter knife.

Mercedes chuckled, even while she rolled her eyes. Her mediocre kitchen skills were a running joke in the family. She wasn't entirely hopeless, and could manage quite well if there was a cookbook and heavy supervision involved. "I'll have you know I've graduated from pasta and scrambled eggs. I can cook stuffed chicken breasts and even tried my hand at baking."

Everyone laughed and Sam patted her arm. "So long as you're trying, darlin'" he said. The combination of his twang and his touch created warm fissures that shot out all over her body. Mercedes caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. Now really wasn't the time to get the tinglies, especially in front of her parents.

The rest of breakfast went smoothly. They were in the midst of clean-up when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Mercedes called out. As she walked towards the door, there was a fluttering feeling of panic in her stomach. She soon realized why when she opened the door and found Finn on her front porch.

"Hey," he said softly. His lips twitched into something resembling a smile, catching her off guard.

"Hey yourself," she replied. Call her crazy, but he actually seemed to be in a good mood for once.

Finn stepped into the foyer, his large frame towering over her. He was dressed casually in a black thermal Henley and dark jeans. "I called you a few times, but you never answered your phone."

Mercedes realized she'd left her phone upstairs. "I think it's still upstairs. We were having breakfast."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to bring your car back." He held up her keys.

"Thank you," she said. "And no, you didn't interrupt. We were just cleaning up."

"Okay, cool." He seemed to relax and Mercedes couldn't help but feel guilty. She was the reason he was so unsure and tense around her. "So, Kurt was supposed to pick me up from your house but he's still trying to recover from last night. I don't think he'll be conscious until it's time to head over to lunch at Mr. Schue's." His brown eyes met hers. "Do you think you can give me a ride back?"

"Oh…" she started. But before she could finish her sentence, she heard a deep voice call out.

"'Cedes we're finished up in there. Give me a few minutes and we should be ready to go," Sam said, walking to her side. He smiled at Finn. "Hey man, what are you doing here?"

Finn's eyes darted to Mercedes, who quickly averted her gaze. His jaw clenched. "I was just dropping off Mercedes' car."

"Cool. Well do you need a ride back to your place?" Sam asked. "We were just heading out. I don't mind dropping you off."

Finn's nostrils flared as Mercedes finally looked up at him. She could see the visible irritation and something akin to hurt and it made the ball of guilt in the pit of her stomach grow larger. But try as she might, she was at a loss for words. She practically flinched when he spoke again. "No, that's fine. I'll walk."

"Finn," she started. "You live almost twenty minutes away, and that's while driving."

"I said I'll be fine," he said shortly. She knew he was close to losing his temper and decided that maybe having him in an enclosed space together with Sam wasn't such a good idea.

"Mercy, do you think you and Sam could drop me…Oh hey Finn," Quinn said as she entered the foyer.

Mercedes had never been so happy to see the blonde woman in her life. "Hey Q!" she said far too brightly, earning her a raised eyebrow from both Sam and Quinn.

"Hey," Quinn said slowly. There was a weird look on her pretty face as she eyed the scene in front of her. Mercedes knew what she was thinking. Finn looked pissed, Sam was confused, and she was eight shades of fucking panic. She shot Quinn a pleading look.

"I was hoping to catch you and Sam before you left. I wanted to get a ride downtown to do some window shopping at the mall before meeting up with everyone." Quinn turned to Finn. "How about I take Finn with me and we'll see you two later at Mr. Schue's?"

Mercedes sighed in relief, forever grateful towards her quick-thinking friend. "Sounds good." She tossed Quinn her keys. She glanced up at Finn, whose look was unreadable. She knew he'd completely shut down his emotions. "Is that cool with you, Finn?"

"Whatever, " he said, not even bothering to look at her. "I'll be outside." Before anyone could stop him, he turned and headed out the door.

Sam glanced between the two women. "Is he okay?" he asked.

Mercedes opened her mouth to answer, but Quinn stepped in. "Oh he'll be fine. I can't imagine he had an easy night, taking care of all those drunks at the Hudson-Hummel abode."

Quinn's eyes slid towards Mercedes. "Mercy, we'll just all leave out together. I'm going upstairs to get my purse."

"I should probably grab my phone." She turned to Sam. "I'll be right back."

The two women hopped upstairs, and Mercedes knew Quinn was going to say something. She went into her room and grabbed her purse and made sure to put her wallet, keys, and phone inside. Before leaving she put on her cardigan. It was a soft shimmery gold cashmere number, and it was one of her favorite pieces. Giving her make-up a quick touch-up, she headed out into the hallway, nearly crashing into Quinn.

"Jesus, you scared me!" she exclaimed, righting herself.

Quinn arched a dark eyebrow at her best friend. "We're going to keep this very short, Mercy" she said, her voice low. "I don't exactly know what's going on, but if I had to guess I'd say that Finn is very territorial over you." Quinn raised a hand to silence Mercedes' protests. "Like I said, I'm keeping this short because I'm afraid of what will happen if Finn is left alone with Sam. Just my observations. We'll talk later."

With that, the blonde turned and made her way down the hall. Mercedes sighed. What she dreaded what was happening before her eyes, and apparently the drama was noticeable. But Quinn was always more perceptive than most people, so she used that tidbit to try and ease her mind.

When she returned downstairs, Sam was talking to Quinn and her parents. Her heart jumped at the sight of him clad in a fitted black leather jacket. She'd wager that it was the same one he had in high school. It was always one of her favorite things he wore. The nostalgic feel of this particular moment was not lost on her. High school Mercedes, the diva…that part was slowly taking over, and at the present, she didn't feel like suppressing it.

"Mercy, Sam said Finn was here earlier?" her mother questioned.

"Yeah, he dropped off my car."

"That's odd. He always stops by the house whenever he's in town. It's not like that boy to be rude."

"He's not feeling so well," Quinn interjected. "Mercy gave me her keys so I can drop him home."

Irene shot her daughter a look that Mercedes couldn't decipher. She was hoping her mother didn't press the issue any further, and thankfully she didn't. "Okay then. Well tell him the next time he stops by, he'd better say hello. Famous football player or not, he'll still get popped upside the head."

Quinn smiled. "I'll read him the riot act, Moms. Have fun on your trip." She kissed Tony and Irene and gave Sam a playful punch on the arm before facing Mercedes. "I'll see you two later at Mr. Schue's."

"Sounds good," Mercedes said as Quinn left quickly. She turned to Sam. "Are you ready?"

"Yep. Miss Irene, it's always a pleasure seeing you. And thanks for the breakfast Mr. T." He leaned down for Irene to kiss his cheek and shook hands with the older man.

Tony smiled. "Nice to see you too, son. And you're welcome for breakfast. I know Noah Puckerman isn't the same young hothead he was back in the day, but the boy is still a fool. He's probably still lazing in bed."

Mercedes giggled. "Daddy leave Puck alone. He's grown up now, and a respectable adult."

"The boy will always be a fool, Sunshine. I stand by my statement."

"Oh hush, Tony" Irene said. "These young people don't want to hear your crazy ass theories. Tell the rest of the kids we said hello and that we're sorry we missed them. I doubt you two will be back before we leave, so give me a hug."

Mercedes complied, squeezing both her parents tightly. "Have a good trip. Bring me back something good, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Uh-huh. You just make sure that my house is in one piece when we return."

Sam laughed. "I'll make sure to keep her in line, Moms." He winked at Mercedes, who ducked her head, hiding her smile. "Well we should get going." He offered his arm to Mercedes, who gingerly accepted.

He was a perfect gentleman, opening the door of his truck and helping her inside before shutting the door. She buckled herself in and turned as he slid into the driver's seat. "So where are we headed?" she asked.

"Well, I figured we'd head out to the Rail Trail for a bit. I need to walk off some of that breakfast."

Mercedes chuckled as he patted his stomach for emphasis before starting up the truck. "You fatty."

* * *

><p>Saturday morning at the Rail Trail was always a gamble; people were milling about everywhere, but Sam knew it was one of Mercedes' favorite spots in Lima. Besides nature walks there were small parks up and down the nearly 5-mile stretch of black pavement.<p>

After all this time, the Rail Trail remained unchanging. She smiled when he pulled into the familiar parking lot before cutting off the engine. He hopped out and jogged around to her side, opening the door and holding out his hand. Even as she stepped down and shut the door, his hand still clutched hers, the warmth from his skin making her cheeks blush.

Sam grabbed a small bag from the backseat and they headed out towards the trail. They passed a number of elderly people on a morning stroll, seasoned joggers on their daily run, and families out enjoying the sunshine. The laughter and screams of children at play in the park a few miles down the way was still audible.

Mercedes sighed. It was gorgeous out, a perfect spring day in Lima and for the first time in a long time, her heart felt light. She glanced up at Sam, who was humming softly and swinging their clasped hands. His eyes met hers when he felt her staring and he smiled. "What's up, sweetness'?"

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "Just enjoying the weather and the company."

Inwardly, she beamed at her nickname. Back in the day, it was his preferred moniker because he said her laugh was 'sweet like sugar'. She thought it was incredibly adorable, if not extremely dorky and she told him on several occasions that his 'Southern was showing'.

They walked in comfortable silence for another fifteen minutes before finally coming to a stop. She grinned happily, taking in the scene before her. "Wow," she breathed.

"Yeah," he said. It was their spot, discovered on a dusky evening filled with boredom. It was a little ways off from the Rail Trail, hidden behind clusters of trees and bushes. Mercedes loved nature and the outdoors, and within their little garden, she indulged to her heart's content.

Sam grinned, tugging her into their paradise. "Come on, let's see if it's still the same."

They called it Secret Garden, but it was more than that. There was a field of vibrant wildflowers and a large, babbling stream. Honeysuckle grew in thick, scented clumps, surrounding the area and giving it an air of privacy. It was their piece of heaven, and as far as Mercedes could tell, they were the only people who knew it existed; their small piece of Pandora, idyllic and lush.

The amount of time spent in the wooded oasis…it was some of the best parts of her life with Sam: late-night serenades, hot summer days splashing barefoot through the stream, lying amidst rows of lavender and cornflowers, her fingers gently combing through Sam's hair, her face buried in his chest, their whispered conversations and pledges of love breaking the tranquility.

The secret garden was the visual embodiment of their love. And though it was neglected for quite some time, life bloomed and flourished within.

Finding a good spot near the stream, Sam opened the small bag to reveal a blue fleece blanket. He spread it out on the grass before taking off his leather jacket and plopping down. He reached for Mercedes, who obliged him. They lay on the blanket on their backs, basking in the warm sunlight on their faces.

"So," Sam said after a brief moment of silence. "How's life?"

Mercedes sighed. Guess it was finally time to have this conversation, she thought. "Life is…life, I suppose. Still living in Brooklyn with Kurt. Still writing for Wrecked."

"I know. I subscribe to Wrecked online."

"Wow. Really?"

"Sure," Sam replied. His face was still facing the sun, his eyes shut. "You really are a fantastic writer, Cedes. But then again you always were."

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Are you still writing in your journals?"

"Of course. I'm actually trying to finish up my novel."

Sam smiled. "That's great!"

"I guess. I gave it to a colleague to read and she passed it along to her editor friend. They were supposed to call me with their feedback, but I haven't heard from them yet."

"You will, sweetness. You're far too talented for them to pass you up. Didn't I tell you that we're gonna see your name in lights one day?"

Her heart tripped a beat at that memory. It was still hands down, the best damn 'moment of truth' gesture she'd ever seen. Lloyd Dobler didn't have shit on Sam Evans. "Yeah, maybe. I'm trying not to think about it, especially while I'm here. If it happens, it happens."

A peaceful silence settled in while they enjoyed the soft sounds of the tumbling water in the nearby stream. "How's work?" she asked after a few moments. She stole a glance at him.

Sam grinned. "Pretty damn good. I'm in the process of developing a new series with a buddy of mine, maybe trying to set up a social media site strictly for comic book geeks."

"That sounds really good."

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "I'm doing a bunch of different side projects. I'm trying my hand at painting. So far, so good. Not sure how I'm going to balance all of this stuff, especially with this job offer from Marvel."

"What!" Mercedes exclaimed. She turned to him, excitement making her eyes sparkle. "That is so cool!"

"Yeah, " he said, her joy making him a little giddy. "I'd be a contract inker/artist and still be able to work on my own stuff in my spare time."

"I'm so proud of you. And thank God it's Marvel. I don't know if we could still associate with one another if you worked for DC." They both laughed. "By the way, 'Wasteland' is pretty badass. Very Alan Moore-esque."

His lips quirked into his signature lopsided grin. "So you do read it."

"Never miss an issue. It's not every day a girl has a comic book heroine based off her." Mercedes chuckled at the faint blush in his cheeks.

"Picked up on that, huh?" he asked sheepishly.

She snorted. "'Marina Jensen', Sam? It wasn't that hard to figure out."

"Then there's that awesome ass of hers," he added. His olive eyes were playful as he propped himself up on his elbow to face her.

"Still ridiculous as ever," she said with a smile. It was so easy to fall right back into things with Sam. He was forever easygoing, his laidback attitude alleviating her overanalytical mind almost instantly. But still, she couldn't exactly erase eight years. "I missed you." It was a good place to start, and those three words conveyed her feelings quite succinctly.

Apparently Sam agreed. He studied her for a moment, eyes boring into hers but it wasn't uncomfortable. "I missed you, too" he replied.

Mercedes sat up, crossing her ankles and smoothing down her dress. "What are we doing, Sam?" she questioned.

He flopped on his back again, hands clasped behind his head. "I don't know, Cedes. It just feels right."

"It's this place," she said. "There's so many memories tied to the Secret Garden. We're just wrapped up in nostalgia."

"Is that a bad thing? Isn't that what you're supposed to do at reunions?"

"Maybe," she replied. "But we can't live in the past forever, Sam. Sooner or later we have to face the present."

He sat up completely, eyebrow raised in her direction. "When did you become such a pessimist?"

"I'm more of a realist, actually. Time changes people. I'm not that little girl anymore." There was a hint of bitterness in her tone and she didn't even bother to analyze why.

Sam picked up on it. "No, you're not." He was still studying her, his gaze full of curiosity. "You're different."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I haven't quite figured that out yet. I noticed it last night at dinner. You seem…sad."

His accurate assessment hit her like a sucker punch. Sam's perceptiveness was a gift and a curse; she was never able to hide anything from him. "Things…things have been kind of rough."

"Care to share?"

"Not really."

He frowned at that. The Mercedes he knew never kept secrets from him. That was the best part about their relationship—they weren't just lovers, they were best friends. He could talk to her about anything, and in turn she would share all her secrets. It was a mutual trust. But eight years changes the dynamic. He had to acknowledge that she was right; they weren't those people anymore. "Does it have to do with me?" he asked. There was no point in beating around the bush. Talking around the issue wasn't going to get them anywhere.

Mercedes sighed. "Eight years is a long time, Sam."

"You keep saying that, but I'm wondering if that's just an excuse."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not an excuse; it's the truth. You just don't want to admit it."

Sam reached out, covering her hand with his larger one. "Mercedes," he started. Her gaze met his and she practically shuddered at the emotion in his eyes. He was about to drop some serious knowledge. "I know we can't go back. I'm trying to tell you that I want to move forward. I'm sorry that things aren't better between us, but I would like them to be. This week is our chance to maybe right the wrongs and move past whatever's blocking us, because frankly after eight years, I'm tired of not having you in my life."

Mercedes blew out a shaky breath as his words sank like a stone in her chest.

He gauged her reaction before letting out a quiet chuckle. "Too soon?" he asked.

"You were just saying how you feel," she answered. She couldn't be upset with him over that, but something was bugging her. "I'm just wondering why now?"

"Seems like an opportunity is presenting itself, and I'd feel like an ass if I didn't at least try." Turning fully towards her, Sam reached for her hands again. "I'm not saying we pretend like this time apart didn't happen. But for now, let's just be in this moment, right here, in our secret garden."

Mercedes could feel herself getting tangled in the undercurrent of his emotional words. Nevermind her paranoia at being abandoned by him again, or her guilt over Finn. She tried to push that deep inside and focus on the boy who at one time in her life, loved her more than anything in the world.

* * *

><p>Sam could feel it in his gut; something was different with Mercedes. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, and she wasn't exactly overflowing with information. He'd hoped bringing her back to the special place they once shared would open her up, but no such luck. One minute she was laughing and joking around, and the next she shut down.<p>

He wasn't used to this woman, and frankly it was driving him crazy. If he heard the words 'eight years is a long time' again he was going to scream. It was quickly replacing 'it was a summer fling, Sam' as his least favorite phrase in their relationship lexicon.

Yes, time had slipped away from them. But couldn't she see just how much she meant to him? Maybe he was being too forward. His mother always said his ambition was his best and worst quality. Ambition gave him tunnel vision, making him blind to everything except getting what he wanted. 'Single-minded and reckless as hell' was how his mother described it. He didn't do it on purpose, but when felt strongly about something, he had to act. But maybe this time he needed to curb his shit and just hear her out.

"Something you want to get off your chest?" he asked. He watched her tiny brown fingers idly twist the hem of dress, gathering the thin fabric in small, nervous bunches between her digits. He could always tell when something was bothering her. That was a peek of his old diva; she could pretend to be tough as nails and give off an air of 'don't fuck with me', but that shit never worked with him. He could read her better than most people.

Still, she wasn't letting him in and it was beginning to concern him. He watched as she shrugged her shoulders. "It's cool" she said in a breezy tone that didn't match the sadness in her eyes. At that moment her phone beeped loudly, interrupting the serenity of their surroundings.

It was a text from Kurt.

**I'm alive, no thanks to you. We're on our way to Mr. Schue's for lunch, in YOUR car with Quinn and Finn. Jesus, talk about an awkward ride. Did something happen this morning? Finn is kinda grouchy. –Kurt.**

Mercedes checked the time; it was almost one. She couldn't believe they'd spent so much time lying on a blanket, but that was the magic of Secret Garden. "It's Kurt. Apparently everyone's heading over to Mr. Schue's."

Sam frowned. He really wanted to continue their conversation, but decided it was best not to push her. He watched as she quickly typed a message back to Kurt before slipping her phone back into her purse. Her eyes focused back on him and she smiled. "I'm sorry if I'm being a little cryptic," she said. "I really do want us to get over this hurdle and be…well whatever it is we're supposed to be."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetness." he said, his voice low. "Now, let's get going. I wanna see if Mr. Schue is still rocking those damn sweater vests."

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later they stopped in front of an adorable Tudor-style home. "This is it," Sam said.<p>

Mercedes smiled. The car ride hadn't been as awkward as she thought. Sam kept her entertained with stories about work and singing along to the radio. They lightly danced over their previous conversation, and for that she was grateful. It didn't feel right, talking to Sam about her fears in their special place, as if the negative talk would taint the aura surrounding their happy memories.

Jesus, she was beginning to sound overdramatic. This was not her. She was Mercedes Fucking Jones and didn't run away from her issues. She needed to be honest with the man. She cared deeply for Sam, but was afraid to admit that she still might be in love with him. The fear of the unknown and questioning the strength of their bond was leaving her with doubts. Try as they might, their foundation was rocky. These hurdles had to be overcome before they could move forward with any kind of future.

And then of course, there was Finn.

Her head dropped to her cradled hands with a sigh. This was a goddamn clusterfuck.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"I'm alright," she replied. Mercedes lifted her head to meet his gaze. "I've been so damn ridiculous and I'm sorry. You're right. It's been too long, and for what? I still care for you and do I want you back in my life, but I'm just wondering if shit for us will always be this way. We were so solid back then, and then things just crumbled. A lot's went down and there's a ton of hurt on both sides, and my fear is that we can't move forward. So that's why I'm freaking the fuck out because I'm scared that this is just a fleeting trip down memory lane and is that really good for us?" She sucked in a large gulp of air.

Mercedes could feel his eyes on her and her cheeks flushed. She hadn't meant to say all of that, but she didn't regret it; the fears were legitimate.

"Feel better?" he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "A little bit. I still care for you, Sam but…"

"Then that's the only thing that matters," he interrupted. His hand reached for hers, grasping it tightly. "Let it be, Cedes. Shit always came naturally for us. We don't have to rush anything."

"Thank you," she said, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. They were so full of emotion and tenderness, it made her heart flutter. "I forgot how damn pushy you are, Evans."

"That's why I need you, sweetness. You always kept me in line." Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the middle console to kiss her cheek. Mercedes shuddered at the feel of his lips lightly grazing her skin. The simple touch was enough to soothe her heart and calm her fears.

"Let's go inside, Evans." She pushed him playfully and he nearly tumbled out the driver's side. She waited patiently as he got out and walked around to open her door. She'd learned a long time ago to wait for him after the boy would practically snarl whenever she'd try to get out on her own.

They walked up the cobblestone path to the front door and rang the bell.

"Well hello, you two! You're the last ones to arrive."

Mercedes grinned at her former guidance counselor. "Hey Emma. Sorry we're late."

Emma Schuester smiled, her eyes wide and excited. "Don't worry about it, dear. You're looking lovely Mercedes. Nice to see you, Sam."

Sam kissed the older woman on the cheek as they stepped inside. "You too, Em."

"Everyone is in the backyard. We're having lunch outside."

They walked through the spotless foyer and living room and headed towards the kitchen. The patio doors were open and they could hear loud laughter coming from the deck.

"Look who's here!" Emma called as they stepped out onto the patio. There were two circular tables set up on the large deck and everyone was already seated and chatting. Will Schuester looked up and smiled at his former students.

"Glad you guys could make it," he said, hugging them both.

"Sorry, we lost track of time" Sam replied.

"Don't worry about it," Will said. "We wouldn't have started without you."

Mercedes sat down between Artie and Quinn while Sam went to the other empty seat next to Matt. She glanced up to notice Finn's dark eyes watching her. His gaze was intense and she looked away.

Lunch was pleasant. There was lots of talking, laughter, and plenty of reminiscing. It was nice to see their old teacher again. Will was still at McKinley teaching European History and also preparing to lead his current glee club to Regionals. Since Mercedes' senior year, New Directions won Nationals four other times. Mr. Schue was getting offers from other schools begging him to coach, but he refused to leave. McKinley was his home.

He and Emma married after eight years ago after graduation and had twin girls, Sage and Paige. They were chubby little gingers with cute smiles and curly hair. She was glad to see her former teacher doing so well.

Every now and then she would catch Sam's eye and smile. He kept pulling the most ridiculous faces to make her laugh and she nearly choked on her chicken salad. Quinn studied their exchange, her peridot eyes thoughtful. "Seems like you two are having a good day," she stated.

Mercedes shrugged. "We talked for a bit and decided to let things happen naturally."

"Seems like a solid plan."

Mercedes eyed her friend. She could tell something was bothering the blonde, but she didn't want to push.

Instead, Quinn spoke again. "You need to be careful, Mercy."

"Are you talking about me getting hurt again by Sam?"

"Well there's that," Quinn said with a nod. "And the fact that Finn clearly has strong feelings for you. How do you think he feels, seeing you get all chummy with Sam again?"

Her dark eyes darted around, but no one was paying them any attention. "But what Finn and I had is in the past," she hissed. "There's nothing more to it."

"Are you sure he knows that?" Quinn questioned. They both looked at Finn, who slid his eyes in their direction. "Because those looks he keeps giving you definitely don't say 'I'm over you'."

She was about to reply when Artie leaned over. "You ladies might want to cover your food," he said. "Finn keeps looking over here like he's hungry as hell."

Quinn chuckled. "Oh he's hungry alright. But not for food. Right, Mercy?"

Mercedes shot Quinn a murderous look. "Shut up, you."

"What's going on here?" Artie asked. "Are we keeping secrets? Who y'all got dirt on?"

"Why are you all up in everyone's business?" Mercedes questioned.

Artie sucked his teeth, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Girl, please. I'm just trying to ratchet things up. My woman is back in L.A. and I'm bored. You know I've always lived an 'ain't shit' life. I'm nosy as shit and I smell drama."

"Aww, Artie you're dating someone?" Quinn smiled.

"For about five months now, which you would know if people could actually find your ass once in a while." The three friends chuckled. "I'm gonna let this slide, because we're in front of company. But later on at the club tonight y'all gonna tell me what's going on."

Mercedes shot him a look. "Wait, what club?"

"We were talking about it before you got here," Tina said. "Lima has an actual nightclub."

She laughed. "Get the hell out. Forreal?"

"Yeah," Tina nodded. "Apparently it's fairly new, but it's the cool place in town to go."

"So we're going and getting fucked up," Artie said. "Because Lord knows I can't tolerate half you bitches without some kind of alcohol in my system."

A night out on the town actually sounded kind of fun. Good thing I brought that cute dress.

And the 'fuck me heels'. Thank you Kurt, she thought silently.

"Wait, how are we all getting there? Someone's gonna have to be 'DD'. We can't all drink and drive."

"Oh Rachel took care of that," Tina said with a smirk. "One call to her 'not-Sugar Daddy' and we got ourselves a limo."

Mercedes couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course. "Well I guess that's good."

"Good? Woman we gonna roll up in style. Popping bottles and everything." Artie high-fived Mike, while Quinn and Tina laughed.

All of them going out to a club, in a limo, paid for by an anonymous pimp. "This is gonna get messy, isn't it" she asked.

Artie grinned. "One can only hope, boo."

* * *

><p>The rest of lunch had flown by, with everyone promising to stop by their alma mater sometime during the week. Mercedes was feeling excited about her night out on the town. Lima actually having a club was a pretty big deal, and even though she was a seasoned New Yorker now, she was interested to see how her small town did the club scene.<p>

By the time she and Quinn returned home, her parents were gone. It was only six and they didn't have to meet everyone until nine-thirty so the girls opted to watch a movie. Mercedes made the kettle corn while Quinn hemmed over the Jones' extensive DVD collection.

When Mercedes returned with the bowl, Quinn was already cozy on the couch watching the DVD previews play on the large LCD screen. "What are we watching?" Mercedes asked, plopping down next to her.

"Jurassic Park. What?" Quinn asked. She'd glanced over to see Mercedes giving her side-eye. "I have a thing for Jeff Goldblum. Don't give me side-eye."

"Whatever, weirdo." They ate the popcorn in silence while watching the action onscreen. Jurassic Park brought back a lot of Sam-related memories. She was a movie nut, just like her blond ex and their Spielberg versus Cameron battles were legendary. Mercedes insisted many times that James Cameron was a hack who wasn't fit to shine Spielberg's shoes, but Sam fiercely defended his pick.

"_Come on, Cedes!" he would say, his cheeks flushed. "The man is a legend! Point Break, Last Action Hero, True Lies, Escape from New York, ALL of the Terminator movies."_

"_Your argument is invalid, Blondie. Jurassic Park, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, motherfucking JAWS, Indiana Jones, E.T., and of course The Color Purple. You aren't winning this, baby."_

"_Yeah? Not even with Avatar?"_

"_Especially not with that crapfest."_

"_Oh girl, I don't think we can date anymore. "_

"_Poor baby. What if I told you despite James Cameron being a total douche-hack that 'Strange Days' is totally one of my favorite movies?" _

_Sam smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "That kind of makes up for it. Tell me you like Alien and maybe you can be my girlfriend again."_

_Mercedes nuzzled his nose. "I love Alien, Sammy. Ripley's a badass."_

"_I cried at Schindler's List," he admitted, wrapping her in his arms. _

_She chuckled. "My sweet, sensitive man. Avatar is okay, I guess."_

"_Mmm," he groaned, nuzzling his lips into her neck. "Don't threaten me with a good time, sweetness."_

"_Shut-up, boy" she giggled. "Well at least we can both agree on one thing."_

_He glanced up at her, a wide grin on his face. _

"_Titanic is shitty," they said in unison before erupting into laughter. _

"Mercy!" Quinn's voice dragged her from her daydream. She looked up to see the blonde shaking her head. "You are so sprung."

"Shut up, Q" she said, her cheeks flushed.

"I can't wait to see Sam push up on you at the club, working those body rolls of his." Quinn's eyes were lit up, a teasing smile on her pretty face.

Mercedes tossed a kernel at her face. "You are such a dick," she said grinning. They watched the movie for another hour before deciding it was time to start getting ready. After a quick shower, she set her hair in heated rollers and took her time primping.

She was still only wearing a black lace strapless bra and matching boy shorts when Quinn burst in. Mercedes was in the middle of applying eyeshadow and glanced up. "How the hell are you dressed already?" she asked.

Quinn shrugged. "When you live out of a suitcase the majority of the time, you learn to make moves. Besides," she said with a sly smile. "I'm not trying to impress anyone special."

Mercedes would have rolled her eyes, except she was trying not to mess up her smoky eye. "Whatever. You do look cute though." She was wearing a strapless dress in a deep red that matched her vibrant lipstick and showed off a lot of leg. Her short blonde hair was teased into a sleek fashionable pompadour. A pair of dangerously high stilettos completed her look.

"Thanks. I was feeling all vixen tonight."

"Trying to push up on some cute girls?" Mercedes asked, slipping into her 80s-inspired dress.

A ghost of a smile played on the blonde's lips as she zipped up her best friend's dress. "Something like that. I'm not looking for anything serious. There's no room in my life for commitment at the moment."

"Heartbreaker."

Quinn chuckled. "You know it." She took out Mercedes' rollers as she put on her jewelry. "I'm so tired of these self-absorbed girls. I just want someone I can stand to be around for more than ten minutes without wanting to gouge my eyes out."

"Wow," Mercedes chuckled. "If that's your lead-in, no wonder the ladies are knocking down your door."

"Oh, you have no idea. I take care of business. I'm just not about the bullshit anymore. I'm too old, and life's too short."

"Amen to that, soul sister." Mercedes finished her hair and fluffed out her curls. She adjusted her breasts in the dress, pushing them up. After stepping into her shoes, she turned. "How do I look?"

Quinn licked her lips. "Good enough to eat," she said with a wink.

The two girls laughed. Mercedes' phone chirped. "It's Kurt. The limo's outside." With one last check in the mirror, she quickly sprayed on her favorite perfume and shoved her ID, bank card, and cash into a small black and purple clutch that already held her lip gloss, house keys, and a small tin of mints.

"I hope we aren't the last ones in," Quinn said as they rushed down the stairs. "I really don't feel like being squished."

"I'm sure we aren't…whoa." They stepped out and saw a behemoth Hummer limo sitting idly in front of the house. "Of fucking course," Mercedes said as they walked towards the limo. A chauffeur opened the door and they slid inside. Thankfully they weren't the last ones in; it was only Kurt, Blaine, Artie and Finn. And of course Rachel.

"Hello ladies!" Rachel greeted them brightly. She was dressed in a grey designer dress that was eight shades of scandalous. She sipped from a champagne flute and Mercedes swore she was already tipsy. "Welcome! Would you like some champagne?"

"No thanks," Quinn said.

Mercedes shook her head. This was all just too much. Apparently Kurt agreed. His side eye was working overtime and she had to stifle a laugh. His ice blue eyes met hers with a look that clearly read 'this bitch' and she hid her snort behind her hand.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Pulse was apparently the place to be in Lima on a Saturday. Mercedes was pleasantly surprised. The club was a decent size and the music was bumping. Once inside, the group commandeered several tables towards the back of the club that gave them a little privacy and access to the dance floor.<p>

The girls went out, dancing in a large group while the guys sipped drinks and watched from the table. There were shouts of laughter when Artie wheeled out and began to pop and lock with them.

After twenty minutes or so, Mercedes made her way to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic to ease her parched throat. She was just about to reach into her clutch for cash when a large pale hand swatted her money away.

"It's on me," Finn said. He smiled down at her. He slid a ten spot on the bar and handed her the glass. He was looking particularly dapper tonight in dark jeans, a white t-shirt and grey and black striped cardigan that stretched tight over his large frame.

She returned the smile and accepted the drink. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, M.J."

"I'm back to 'M.J.' now?" she inquired, taking a sip of her drink. "You're not mad at me anymore?"

"I can never stay mad at you," he said. He was close to her, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. "Especially when you look so fucking hot in that dress."

A sharp shiver raced down her spine, and Mercedes didn't know if it was from the liquor in her system or his bold ass words. "Finn," she breathed.

Finn dipped closer, practically pinning her between his body and the bar. "You're wearing my favorite perfume tonight, gorgeous."

He hadn't touched her at all, but his closeness was confusing her. "Finn, stop. Someone will see." She knew this was a bad idea, especially when his fingers reached out, brushing a few stray curls out of her face.

"You've been avoiding me, M.J. and I'm just trying to figure out why." He was so close, but to the average gawker they were just two people trying to have a conversation in a loud and crowded club.

Her heart was racing and she was trying to process her thoughts but all she could focus on was the look of heated lust in his dark eyes and his weighted bulk pressed against her. "I need time to think, Finn. Please."

"I still want you." he stated bluntly.

"I know" she sighed.

"I don't think you do, M.J." His forehead rested on hers and he breathed deep. Mercedes realized he was trembling slightly.

"Finn, come on." She gently moved herself out of his embrace and took a step away. "I just have to work some stuff out. We're friends. I don't want to fuck this up."

Finn's laugh was humorless. "Sure, Mercedes. Whatever you say." He picked up his beer bottle and took a healthy sip. His brown eyes flashed as Sam approached.

"Cedes! Come on out and dance with me!" Sam's arm snaked around her waist.

Mercedes nearly jumped at the contact. "Uh I'll be right there," she said, smiling at him.

Sam grinned. "Don't keep me waiting too long!" He body rolled his way back to the dance floor, joining Santana and Matt in an impromptu robot dance off.

Her eyes turned back to Finn. "We **are** friends, Finn. Believe me; I'm not trying to hurt you."

A slight frown crossed his features as he stared silently at her. He waited a beat, taking another sip of his beer before speaking. "Don't want to keep _Sammy_ waiting, _Cedes_." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and she was torn between feeling guilty and wanting to throw her gin and tonic in his face.

"Fine," she huffed. Mercedes downed the rest of her drink and slammed the glass on the counter. With a flip of her hair, she walked to the dance floor to join her friends.

* * *

><p>"You need to stop."<p>

Finn glanced up to see Kurt occupying the space that Mercedes just vacated. He rolled his eyes at his brother and finished his beer.

Kurt was undeterred. "I'm serious, Finn. You practically humped her fucking leg. You're lucky I was the only one paying attention."

"Whatever, Kurt" he said, his jaw tightening. He'd just been an absolute dick to her and he didn't need Kurt to reprimand him; he already felt like shit.

Kurt's face softened as watched his brother. He was obviously deep in his feelings, and seeing Sam with exclusive rights to Mercedes was fucking with his head.

Finn's gaze traveled to the dance floor, watching as Sam and Mercedes danced together. The blond's hands gripped her hips tight as she swayed in time to his rhythm, her ass pressed against his crotch.

This was just sheer fucking torture.

"Finn, for your sake…just back off."

"Why should I?" he snarled. His irritation was at full mast now and he had to turn away from them before he lost his shit.

Kurt's voice was laced with sympathy. "Because you're only going to hurt yourself in the end. You have to let her work through this. If you keep pushing her, you'll lose her completely."

Finn glanced down at his brother before daring to look at them again. Seeing Sam and Mercedes together, bodies pressed intimately, her hands clutching the lapels of his black blazer…the scene made his heart hurt.

"I can't stop, Kurt" he rumbled. "I think about her all the time."

"Give her some space, let her breathe, and then you guys can talk this out."

The brothers were silent once more. "I don't know if I can be just friends with her," he finally said.

"Well you have to try," Kurt said. "Because you're not him. What they have…it's inevitable. And you standing in the way is only going to piss him off, confuse her, and break your heart. So back your shit down. I say this with love."

With one last pat on the shoulder, Kurt left his brother alone with his thoughts, joining his boyfriend and the rest of the group out on the dance floor.

The weight of his brother's harsh but well-intentioned words hit him like a freight train. He watched his friends dancing and having fun. Beneath the pulsing lights and the thumping music, Finn felt absolutely nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Up Next in Chapter 5: The girls have lunch, the boys play basketball, New Directions returns to McKinley, and Sam and Mercedes grow closer. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5: Closer

**AN: Excuse the lateness. Writer's block is a salty bitch. I appreciate all of your messages, reviews, and kind words. Like seriously. On tumblr, through email...you guys are the best damn people. Thank you for reading my story. **

* * *

><p><em>Don't think we're not serious<br>When's it ever not  
>The love we make is give and it's take<br>I'm game to play along_

_- "Work", Jimmy Eat World_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Philadelphia, one year ago<strong>__:_

_Mercedes sat on the gray granite countertop in the stylishly decorated condo, her bare feet swinging back and forth as she watched the bulky man in front of her work his magic in the kitchen. She silently studied his fingers gripping the sharp knife, sliding it through the colorful assortment of peppers, chopping them with precision before tossing handfuls of the vibrant medley into the oil-coated sauté pan. _

_As if he knew she was watching, Finn turned his eyes in her direction, meeting her grin with a smile of his own. "Are you sure alfredo is okay?" he asked. _

_She nodded. "Anything is good, so long as I don't have to cook it myself. Who knew you were such a top chef?"_

_Finn chuckled. "When it was just me and Mom, I cooked all the time. It wasn't fair for her to work all those hours every day only to come home and have to feed me. When she married Burt, Kurt and I would share chef duties."_

"_Wow, I had no idea. Forget football, just open your own restaurant." Mercedes teased. _

_His grin was easy as he stirred the noodles boiling inside the stock pot. "I don't think my agent would approve of that career move, but I'll keep it in mind." Finn shot her another wide smile. "I'm glad you're here, gorgeous. Even if it is for work."_

_Mercedes shrugged. She was in the City of Brotherly Love on a two-day assignment for Wrecked, following a band that was garnering a huge amount of buzz on the indie scene. After finishing her interview and subsequent article early, she decided to give Finn a call. _

_Since the night of their first encounter almost a year ago, their number of hookups was steady. Neither one was ready to define what exactly they were doing, but rather preferred to dance around the situation. Mercedes knew she cared about Finn, but she wasn't exactly sure what those feelings meant, or where they could potentially lead. _

_Still, she did miss him. It'd been almost two months since they saw one another in person. "I missed you, Finn. I'm glad I'm here."_

_Finn stopped fiddling with the vegetables long enough to shoot her an appreciative smirk. "You're just happy to have someone cook for you. You're not fooling me at all, M.J."_

"_Shut up, knucklehead" she said with a laugh. Her leg stretched out, trying to kick him, but she was too short and he was too far away so she settled for hurling insults at him. _

"_Here, taste this," he said, holding a spoonful of creamy sauce out to her. Mercedes puckered her lips, blowing gently before gingerly tasting the alfredo. _

"_Mmm," she moaned, her eyes closing in bliss. "Finn this is really good. I can't believe you made this from scratch." She opened her eyes to find him watching her, a dark look in his chestnut eyes. She recognized that gleam. _

_Mercedes licked her lips, catching a small spot of the leftover sauce. She was about to say something when Finn gripped her hips, practically dragging her across the counter, her body flushed tight to his. _

"_I wanna taste, too" he rumbled. With a slow smile he pressed his lips against hers, his tongue flicking out to lap at her puffy lips. _

_She moaned when he nibbled the juicy flesh before sliding his tongue into her mouth. Her fingers cupped his face as she deepened the kiss, their tongues battling one another. Kissing Finn was an exercise in restraint. He always brought his A-game and his little tricks with his teeth and tongue never failed to leave her breathless and desperate for more. _

_Mercedes whimpered when his hands began to roam, traveling the contoured softness of her shoulders down to her breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing lightly against her nipples, the dark buds pebbling through the flimsy Joy Division t-shirt she wore. "Finn," she breathed. _

_His kisses moved from her dusky lips to her neck, his teeth sinking into the sensitive spots under the curve of her jawline. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his dark scruff scratched her skin, making her shiver. "Oh, fuck" she moaned. "Finn, please." Her hands began to wander as well, reaching under his plain grey tank, her nails raking sharp trails down his torso. Finn hissed at the pleasure/pain contact and his teeth nipped her harder. _

_Mercedes cried out; her panties were already soaked and her pussy was throbbing almost painfully. When Finn's hands cupped her sex through her jeans, a low growl filled with aching need escaped her throat. "Don't tease, Finn" she said, impatience painting her voice. _

_Their lips reconnected once more and Mercedes reached for his zipper. "Impatient, gorgeous?" he whispered, a large smirk played on his lips. He kissed her deeper, the soft facial hair rubbing almost roughly against her cheeks. _

_She pouted a little. "You're being such a dick right now, Hudson."_

"_My house, my rules M.J." He gave her one final kiss before pulling away. His bare feet padded soundlessly against the hardwood floor as he turned his attention back to the food. "I say we have dinner first," he said calmly. His arms flexed as he lifted the pot of cooked noodles off the stove and poured the contents into the waiting colander in the sink. _

_He stole a quick glance at Mercedes, who was still panting slightly, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. Her lips were swollen and slightly reddened and the fiery look in her eyes was saturated with lust. _

_Finn smiled. "If you're a good girl and eat all your food, I'll make sure to give you something nice and tasty for dessert." There was pure devilment in his stare and he winked at her for emphasis. _

_Mercedes rolled her eyes, trying to gain her composure. "Fine," she huffed. "You win for now. But there'd better be top-shelf dick __**and**__ red velvet cheesecake ice cream in my future or else, Hudson." _

_They both laughed, the intense sexual tension slowly fizzling into their usual flirty banter. "Yes ma'am."_

* * *

><p>There was someone in her bed, and they were handsy like a motherfucker.<p>

Her eyes drifted open before shutting quickly from the intruding rays of sunlight peeking through the open curtains. With a slight squint, she peeked down at the pale hand lazily cupping her breast.

A small shiver of panic ran up her spine. Shit. She didn't hook up with someone last night, did she?

It was impossible. She was positive she didn't have too much alcohol, although after the drama with Finn she kind of lost track of how many shots and drinks the boys were buying all the girls.

Mercedes groaned. This could not be happening. How could she sleep with someone and not even remember? She was twenty-six, not some naïve undergrad.

The hand gently squeezed her full globe and she nearly moaned from the contact. It'd been a while since someone else touched her. Nearly nine months since she and Finn stopped hooking up. That insanely vivid dream she had of their Philly tryst, one of the last encounters, certainly didn't help matters. She was extremely horny, still a little drunk, and completely wound up.

The drama with Finn at the bar put a damper on her spirits last night. He was irritated and miserable and while she understood his frustration, she was a little pissed off at his brazen behavior.

Okay, and a little turned on.

Between Finn's Alpha moment and Sam's hands and other amazing (and large) parts pressed against her and grinding up on her ass while dancing, Mercedes was a ball of nerves. She needed some fucking release, and quick. Two fine ass men in her life, and the only things she was getting were wet panties and a damn migraine.

The hand massaged her breast once more and she bit back another moan. Glancing down, Mercedes realized, with great surprise, that the hand currently fucking with her wet dream had bright red polish on the nails.

With a roll of her eyes, Mercedes turned over to see Quinn sleeping peacefully next to her. She let out a chuckle.

"You aren't even slick. I know you're awake."

She watched as Quinn bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning before admitting defeat and opening her peridot eyes, the look in them positively playful. "Damn," she husked. "You caught me."

"Is there any particular reason why you keep copping feels this morning?"

Quinn smiled. "You're just so soft and cuddly," she said, her raspy voice dripping with mock innocence. "I couldn't help myself."

"I mean, you're cute and all but why are you in my bed, and not in the guest room down the hall?"

The blonde stifled a yawn. "Brittany and Santana are in there."

Mercedes frowned. "Shit. I completely forgot about them crashing here." She flopped onto her back, eyes focused on the ceiling.

Quinn glanced at her best friend. "Are you okay? You seem really out of it…well, more so than usual."

"Just woke up with a lot of shit on my mind," she said with a sigh.

"I could tell. That dream of yours must have been pretty graphic." Quinn shot her a knowing look.

"Shut up. You don't get to add your two cents since you decided to handle the merchandise without asking." She stuck her tongue out and the two women laughed.

"Seriously, though is everything okay?"

"It's alright. Things got a little tense at the bar with Finn."

"Hmm," Quinn said thoughtfully. "You should probably have a talk with him before things get worse. Do you love him?"

The question was harsh and blunt, but definitely needed to be asked. Mercedes bit her lip. "I mean, I care about him."

"Like the way you care about Sam?"

She winced. Quinn was bringing out the heavy artillery. "I…"

It was Quinn's turn to huff. Propping herself up on her elbow, she turned to her friend. "Mercy…you've got to be honest with yourself. Stop thinking about the answer and just actually answer the fucking question."

As always, Quinn Fabray hit her with hard truths. She was absolutely right, too. Mercedes was far too focused on the feelings of others at the expense of her own.

She was about to respond when her door flew open to reveal an overly excited Brittany and a semi-grumpy Santana. "Morning bitches," she harrumphed. Santana nudged Quinn over and wedged herself onto the bed.

"Good morning to you too, Sunshine" Mercedes said with a laugh. "I forgot that Santana Lopez doesn't do mornings."

"Technically it's the afternoon, but she doesn't do those either," Brittany said with a grin. "We just got a message from Kurt. He said to wake up the rest of you lazy bitches so we can go get brunch."

"Ugh. But I just want to sleep," Mercedes snuggled deeper into her pillow with Quinn cuddling closer to her. "Hands, Fabray" she warned playfully.

Quinn shushed her before throwing an arm across her round stomach. "But you're my favorite pillow," she husked. "No words, only emotions."

Mercedes chuckled as Quinn smirked. Brittany, who was sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, stifled a giggle. "Your lady cuddles are adorable," she remarked.

"Oh Christ," Santana exclaimed. "Seeing as how I'm not getting any rest today, we might as well get up and get dressed to meet Kurt. I could get my eat on."

Mercedes sighed. "Alright. San, send Kurt a message while Quinn and I get changed. Then we'll take you and Britt to the hotel so you can freshen up."

Everyone grudgingly got up and went their separate ways. Twenty minutes later Mercedes was dressed and feeling refreshed. She went for comfy casual in stretchy, dark blue skinny jeans, a grey and yellow striped tunic tank top and a lightweight cotton blazer in a soft heather grey. Slipping her feet into a pair of navy bejeweled moccasins, she started a bit when her phone beeped loudly. Grabbing the phone off the dresser, she highlighted the new message. A smile danced on her lips.

**Hey sweetness. Last night was fun. Puttin' in work on the dance floor wore me out. We're playing bball, but I was thinking about stopping by after. That cool? –Sammy **

Her heart fluttered and she bit back a huge grin. Don't be that girl, she scolded silently. She typed a quick message back.

**I told you I was gonna put a hurtin' on you, grandpa. You can't handle all of this. If I survive this brunch with the crew, then sure. –Cedes. **

As she put on a pair of simple silver hoops, her phone beeped again.

**Baby, I might be older but we both know how well I can handle you. :) Text you later. Have fun. -Sammy**

Mercedes chewed on her lip, her pulse racing considerably. The text wasn't even dirty, but the naughty implications behind his seemingly innocent words had her flustered. She tried not to wonder what he wanted, and instead focused on getting ready. She nearly jumped when her door flew open.

Quinn breezed in with Santana close on her heels. Mercedes rolled her eyes. "My room is like Grand Central. Just come on in." She brushed out her curls and gave a healthy dose of side-eye to her friends.

"Kurt said we're meeting at some diner in Westerville that Blaine recommended. He's riding with Lauren, Rachel, and Sugar and told us to grab Tina since she's on our way." Santana snickered. "Can you imagine those four in a car together? It's going to be interesting as hell."

"Seriously," Mercedes agreed. "At least it's not another limo ride. Rachel completely showed her ass last night. Are the guys coming?"

"Nah, just us ladies" Santana said with a shrug. "The boys are headed to the old high school stomping grounds to play a little basketball. Kurt was gonna go with them. Something about embarrassing Puckerman on the court, but then he decided making Puck cry would have to wait because waffles are the shit."

Mercedes laughed. "Sounds about right. That boy is legit when it comes to food. He doesn't play around." She glanced at Quinn who was channeling stylish Seattle grunge in ripped to shreds skinny jeans and a red and black plaid blazer. "Q, who the hell are you so dressed up for?"

Quinn shot her a look. "I could ask you the same question," she countered. "It's just Kurt and the girls. Are you expecting to see someone else?" Her grin was mischievous and Mercedes was tempted to toss her hairbrush at her meddling blonde head.

Santana could smell bullshit and secrets a mile away. Her pouty lips curved into a smirk. "Really now," she said, her dark eyes studying the scene before her. "Seems like someone has a secret. Spill it, Troubletone."

Mercedes let out a loud huff. "Jesus, San really?"

Santana folded her arms, shooting the curvy girl a pointed glare. "Listen, I came for drama and mayhem. So far, you've all been disgustingly on your best behavior, aside from Rachel's sloppy ass getting wasted and trying to grab Matt's crotch last night."

"Wait, what?" Quinn asked, but Santana waved her question away.

"The point is, I needs my New Directions drama. Yeah, we all love each other and it's cute seeing everyone together but cut the bullshit. You have juicy gossip. I can feel it. My nips are tingling with anticipation."

Quinn shuddered and Mercedes snorted into her hand. "Your nips, though? Really San?"

The raven-haired woman held out her hands in a 'Kanye Shrug' motion. "Call it my sixth sense. When the nips are tingling, bullshit and fuckery can't be far behind."

Mercedes sighed. She was eventually going to have to come clean about things anyway. Knowing her fellow Troubletone, the girl wouldn't leave things alone. She'd dig until she found out the truth. Best to just cut her off at the pass. "Alright. I'll tell you. But first we have to get you and Britt dressed before Kurt starts sending out a round of messages. Y'all know how that boy is about brunch."

As if on cue, several variations of trills and beeps sounded from purses and pockets.

"Hey guys," Brittany called out from somewhere in the house. "Kurt's threatening me!"

* * *

><p>"So…now that we've picked up Girl Chang, are you finally going to spill your secret 'Cedes or I am gonna have to beat it out of you?"<p>

Mercedes rolled her eyes as Tina shot Santana a dirty look. "'Girl Chang'? Really Santana? Still?"

Santana waved her irritation away. "It's a term of endearment, girl. You know I love you."

"Whatever," Tina said with a huff. She folded her arms and stuck her tongue out at the darker haired woman. "What is she talking about anyway, Mercy?"

Mercedes, who was sitting in the passenger seat, turned to look at Tina. "I promised Santana I would tell her a secret. And now she won't shut up about it."

Quinn chuckled before turning her focus back to driving. "You should have known better than to promise her anything, girl."

"Probably," she said with a nod. "Well, I guess...no I mean I know…well…"

"Mercedes is trying to say that she's still in love with Sam" Brittany simply stated. Four pairs of eyes quickly turned in the direction of the blue-eyed blonde, but she merely shrugged away their incredulous looks. "Ladies, I'm ditzy, not blind."

Mercedes had to laugh at that.

Santana sucked her teeth. "So that's it? That's what you have to tell us. You still have feelings for Sam?" She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. "Well in other 'No Shit News', water is indeed fucking wet."

Tina snorted. "Yeah, Mercy I have to agree" she said. "That's a really lame secret. We all know how you two work. I'm surprised something didn't happen last night, the way his hands were all over you."

A faint heat flushed cheeks and she ducked to hide her knowing grin. "Yeah, well I just don't know. We've talked and decided to let things happen naturally, but I'm not sure."

"Well what's stopping you? He's single, he always asks about you. You're free. Seize the opportunity." Tina's smile was reassuring as she patted her best friend's hand. "Take the chance. Who knows? This might be the time Samcedes finally gets it right."

"Ugh, that name was always so awful," Santana said.

"Oh really? Excuse me Brittana" Mercedes shot back. "No offense, Britt."

"It's okay. I think the worse the name, the better the relationship."

"That explains why 'Quick' didn't last," Quinn joked.

The ladies laughed. Mercedes felt a little better about her issue, but she still wasn't ready to discuss the Finn of the matter. Something deep down told her that people would overreact to the whole thing. And by people, she really meant Santana. Tina would be understanding, and Quinn already knew.

A part of her thought she was doing a disservice by keeping her relationship with Finn a secret. And the truth was, she was scared. Her feelings for Finn couldn't compare to what she felt for Sam, but they were legitimate and true and deserved to be acknowledged.

And that's when it hit her. Maybe this was all Finn wanted. By denying their relationship, or even refusing to call it a relationship, she had denied him.

That was a shitty way to treat someone who'd been there for her when she really needed comfort.

"You okay, sweetie?" Quinn asked as they pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

Mercedes quickly nodded. "Yeah…I'm fine. I just realized something. It's not important, though. We'll talk about it later."

Quinn's green eyes studied her closely, as if trying to decide whether or not she was lying. But she was right; it wasn't the time to talk about this now.

However, before she could overanalyze her issues, a familiar pale face appeared at the passenger window, ice blue eyes peering in.

"Jesus, Kurt!" she cried, clutching her chest. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Kurt's mouth twisted into a smirk. "You have two seconds to get out of that damn car. I've had to endure a drive with Sugar and Rachel. I'm going to need waffles and a fucking mimosa!"

Santana chuckled as she, Brittany, and Tina scrambled out of the backseat. "Let's go before Porcelain here gets a wrinkle."

Kurt shot her a dirty look. "That's not even funny, Satan! Don't joke about things like that."

They headed into the diner, a throwback to classic 50s diners, complete with retro décor.

"Of course Blaine would recommend a place like this. He probably gets tips on the perfect bowtie from the waiters."

Mercedes stifled a giggle at Santana's remark as Kurt shot them both a dirty look. "The rest of the girls are already at a table."

"So where is Blaine?" Tina asked. "He can't be playing basketball."

Kurt shrugged. "He's more of a tennis and soccer man. But I figured he should hang with the guys, make sure they don't get themselves into too much trouble. Plus, I promised him waffles later on."

"Is 'waffles' code for penis? Because that's kind of sweet." Brittany's comment was met with loud laughter and she smiled. Kurt just shook his head as they all sat down at the large circular table.

Mercedes grinned. "Afternoon ladies" she called out to Lauren, Sugar, and Rachel. Lauren smiled warmly while Sugar waved and turned her attention back to the menu.

Quinn's eyebrow quirked questioningly. "Rachel, are you okay?"

The brunette's head rested atop her folded elbows. She carefully lifted her head, a large pair of dark sunglasses shielding her eyes. "I…am…so…hungover right now."

"Poor baby," Sugar patted her arm reassuringly before glancing at the menu again. "Ooooh! They have triple brownie sundaes!" Her high-pitched squeal made everyone wince and Rachel hissed with pain.

Santana rolled her eyes. "If you're so fucked up, why did you even bother coming along?"

"This is a reunion, Santana" she said, her voice a little raspy. "I didn't want to miss out on girl and Kurt bonding time."

"Well you wouldn't be so messed up if you didn't knock all those drinks back to get into Matt's pants," Lauren said, a knowing smirk on her pretty face.

Rachel looked ruffled. "I was not trying to get into his pants. I was simply caught up in the moment."

Santana snorted. "'Caught up in the moment'. Sugar Daddy must not be putting in that work, because your ass is so thirsty right now."

Rachel lowered her shades, a scowl on her face. "Randall is not my sugar daddy," she said snippily. "He happens to be a patron of the theater and fine arts!"

"Yeah?" Santana's expression was one of pure devilment and Mercedes cringed. This was going to get ugly quick. "The only thing he's paying patronage to is that tightly corked, Venus fly-trap of yours. Just admit that you're basically his side piece so we can finally mock you openly about it."

"Santana." There was a hint of warning in Mercedes' tone. "Guys, come on. We just sat down."

The dark-haired woman shrugged, flipping her long glossy hair. "I'm just saying. She comes back here with the fancy limo and the driver with all this talk about patrons and theater. Meanwhile the truth is, she's just a glorified escort. I find it all deliciously ironic, because if my memories serves me correctly—and it does, because I'm a totally hot litigator with a sharp mind—someone haughtily told me that the only job I'd ever have would be working on a pole." Santana smiled wickedly at Rachel, who had removed her sunglasses and was now glaring angrily. "But it seems like Berry here is the only one getting paid to make the pussy pop. Just delicious irony."

A series of loud gasps went around the table while Tina choked on her water. Kurt and Lauren looked amused, while Brittany and Sugar watched the group with confusion.

"Okay!" Mercedes exclaimed loudly. "Listen, I'm hungry, we're already here, and I'm not driving back without some food in my system. If you two can't behave like grown ass women, I'm going to put both of your asses in the car to wait while the rest of us eat. Now lock it up."

"Stop the violence." Brittany patted Santana's hand.

"Damn, Jones" Lauren said, shooting Mercedes an appreciative look. "I haven't heard that Diva tone in a long time. I miss it."

Mercedes smiled at Lauren before shooting dark looks at Santana and Rachel. "I know you two are sworn enemies, or whatever, but we're all adults. We can enjoy a meal without bloodshed. Agreed?"

"Sure," Santana said, not looking the least bit sorry.

"I suppose," Rachel replied, her eyes flashing angrily at Santana before glancing at the menu.

A collective sigh went through the group as order was temporarily restored.

"Well damn, I'm sure the guys are having a better bonding session than we are," Tina muttered.

* * *

><p>"And here's Sam Evans running down the court like there's a fire under his ass!"<p>

Sam hit an easy layup, sinking the ball inside the net before tossing a look in Artie's direction. "You gonna do that every time one of us goes for the hoop?" he asked, wiping his sweaty brow on the collar of his white t-shirt.

"Yup," Artie said with a nod. "I'm designated commentator. Just call me Marv Artie. Now get your ass back into the game. Your team is losing."

Sam gave him a small salute before jogging back to the rest of the boys. It felt kind of nice to be back in the old McKinley High gym. The guys decided to use basketball as a bonding experience. It was him, Puck, and Rory on a team against Finn, Matt, and Mike. Blaine volunteered as the alternate, subbing for a guy whenever they needed a break.

"Time out!" Puck called. He clutched his lower back and limped over to the sidelines. He plopped onto the bleachers next to Artie and patted Blaine's shoulder. "You're up, dude. Puckfasa needs a break."

Artie snorted. "Someone needs to toss Puckfasa's old ass into a gorge. What the hell is wrong with you? The game's only been going on for thirty minutes."

"It was a long night, if you get my drift" Puck's grin was lascivious as he elbowed Artie.

"Alright, cut that shit out. No one wants to hear about the freaky shit that goes on between you and Lauren."

Puck laughed, lifting his shoulder in a shrugging motion. "I mean, I'm just saying. You gotta cut me some slack. I'm a man in recovery mode right now."

"I hear you," Matt called out from the court. "We aren't as young as we used to be. That night out was rough."

"It was rough because Rachel was trying to cop a feel on your junk." Mike shoved him playfully before swiping the ball and going for a dunk.

"Hey!" Finn exclaimed. "He's on our team, jackass."

Rory grinned. "Berry was all over you last night, mate."

Matt shuddered. "I kept trying to tell her I wasn't interested. My girlfriend wouldn't appreciate that at all." He stole the ball from Rory and jetted down the court, the rest of the guys trailing behind him. Matt sank an easy shot before holding his arms up in a victory pose.

"Wait, girlfriend?" Puck asked. "You're still talking to that hot Australian chick?"

Matt bent at the knees, trying to catch his breath. "She's Indian, and yes. Been together since high school."

"Wow," Sam said. He jostled Mike for the ball, hitting a three pointer. "You're practically married, dude."

"Don't remind me," Matt said. "She's waiting on that ring any day now."

The action on the court halted for a minute as the guys took a water break.

"So what's stopping you from popping the question?" Blaine questioned.

"What's stopping any of us from doing it?" he countered. "Rory here has been with Sugar for a while too. And you with Tina, Mike. Puck and Lauren have their kinky shit going on." Matt turned to Sam. "And don't even get me started on this guy here."

Sam, who was busy guzzling from a water bottle nearly choked. "What are you talking about?"

Mike chuckled. "Don't play dumb, Evans. We all saw you and Mercedes last night."

"Mmm-hmm," Artie agreed. "You were all boo'd up."

Sam grinned, wiping his sweaty face with the hem of his t-shirt. "We're just getting reacquainted with each other, guys."

Puck shot him a knowing smirk. "That's how it starts, bro. Before long the sex shark comes out to play and you'll be right back all up in that Chocolate Thunder."

"Mercedes is a good woman. She won't stay single for long," Mike said. "Honestly, I'm surprised she's not dating someone right now."

Blaine shot a look at Finn, whose jaw was clenched. He was gripping his water bottle tightly.

Puck clapped Sam on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "Who knows, maybe by the end of this reunion my boy here will finally step up and get his woman back. Second chances, man. Take that shit. Seize the diem."

"You mean 'Carpe diem'," Blaine offered.

"Whatever. The point is, get on that. Literally. Mercedes is top tier. You aren't going to find anyone better. Hell, all of our ladies are five star."

"Jesus Christ, can we just get back to the game" Finn snarled. He hurled his empty water bottle at the bleachers, nearly clipping Artie's head.

"Oh what the hell!" Artie exclaimed, as the guys glanced in Finn's direction. "Man, have you lost your mind? The hell's wrong with you?"

"Sorry man. Just a little on edge." Finn shot an apologetic look.

Sam patted him on the shoulder. "You okay dude?"

Finn flinched, jerking his shoulder out of Sam's grasp. "I'm fine. Let's just get back to the game."

The air was suddenly thick with tension as the guys studied Finn curiously. Blaine let out a nervous chuckle. "Come on guys. Last I checked me, Sam, and Rory were getting our asses kicked. Let's get back out there and play!" He grabbed the ball, which was at Artie's feet and tossed it to Sam, who was still watching Finn, a slight frown twisting his pouty lips.

"Yeah," Puck said. "We can discuss the particulars of Operation: Chocolate Thunder once we wrap this game up. "

Rory tapped out and Puck took his place. Artie's loud voice could be heard over the grunts and squeaks of sneakers as the guys ran up and down the court.

"And there goes Puck with the steal, the court's wide open…is his old ass gonna take the shot? Oh, and it's in! The score is tied 30-30. Which one of these geriatrics will sink the game winning shot?"

Matt dribbled the ball and tried to pass it to Finn, but was quickly intercepted by Blaine. "Don't let the eyebrows and the gelled hair fool you," Artie called out. "Blaine Anderson is going hard in the paint. Finn's looking a little ragged, chasing after him. I thought tall people were supposed to be good at basketball? Goes to show that size isn't everything."

Finn shot daggers at Artie. "Dude, shut the fuck up!" he panted.

Artie shrugged him off. "Hey, the commentary keeps this shit interesting. Not my fault you don't have any game. Stick to football, man. You clearly aren't Steve Nash."

Blaine, blocked by Mike, made a swift pass to Sam. Finn sprinted towards the hoop, determined to block the shot. Sam went up for the point at the same time. The two men collided with a sickening thud. Finn hit the ground hard, with Sam wobbling on his feet.

"Fuck!" Finn bellowed. He was clutching his face and gasping harshly. "Motherfucker!"

Sam righted himself before casting a glance at Finn. He could hear the other guys running over. "Shit! Finn, are you okay? I didn't realize you were gonna go for the hoop." He reached out his hand to pull him up.

Finn pulled his hand away from his face and noticed the blood.

"Oh shit," Mike groaned.

"Is that blood?" Rory asked, his face turning a sickly shade of green. "I can't deal with blood. Makes me a wee bit queasy."

"Lock it up, Irish" Matt said. "Finn, dude. Can you get up?"

Finn's lip was split, the metallic taste of the blood filling his mouth. Mike and Matt stepped forward, helping him to his feet. His dark eyes focused on Sam, his mind burning with rage. He was barely holding it together.

Sam stepped forward. "Dude I really am sorry. Are you okay?"

All his frustration, all his pent up anger, all the feelings he kept locked away seemed to bubble to the surface, spilling everywhere, coating his thoughts and heart with a darkness that was liberating, but frightened him at the same time. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was an accident, that none of this, not even the bit with Mercedes was Sam's fault.

He was being an irrational dick, but for the first time in his twenty-six years, Finn Hudson didn't give a good goddamn about anyone else's feelings. Before he could even process what was happening, his hand reached out towards Sam, landing a painful punch to his right shoulder.

Sam winced from the force. Finn had obviously been working out. He caught him off guard with the surprise hit, but Sam quickly recovered, his irritation at full mast now. "What the fuck is your problem?" he snarled, pushing Finn hard. "It was a fucking accident, you crybaby."

"Oh yeah," Finn shot back. "It's never your fault, is it Sam? Sam Evans always gets his fucking way! He gets whatever he wants, never mind how the fuck anyone else feels!" He made to grab him up but was quickly intercepted by Mike and Matt. Mike grabbed him by his t-shirt while Matt stood in between the two men.

Sam was livid. "The fuck are you talking about, Hudson? If you have something to say to me, spit it out! I don't speak code."

"Come on guys, chill out." Puck got in Sam's face, hoping to calm down the impending storm. He was well aware of what Sam was capable of when the rage hit. Once he got going, it would take an act of God for him to stop. He loved his boys, but Finn and Sam were both hotheads. They had a tendency to suppress their feelings, and all that pent-up irritation wasn't going to make for a pleasant outcome.

If he didn't stop this now, Puck had no doubt there would be a hospital visit in the future.

Artie wheeled over, taking in the scene. Finn was struggling to free himself from Mike's clutches while Sam glowered dangerously, his eyes practically daring Finn to step to him. "You two need to calm the fuck down," he said. "Finn, it was an accident. Stop acting like a baby. Sam apologized. Accept it and move on."

Finn's eyes darted towards Artie, whose arms were folded tightly across his chest. He cocked an eyebrow as if daring Finn to argue with him. "Fuck this," Finn growled, finally shaking off Mike. Matt still blocked his path, his hands against his chest. "Move," Finn spat.

"Not until you calm down," Matt said simply. "What the hell is up your ass?"

"He's been acting like a goddamn bitch since he showed up," Sam said with a grunt. His olive eyes were blazing with fire and he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm himself.

"Fuck you, Evans. I'm done with this reunion shit. I should have never come back here." He sidestepped Matt, and there was a collective squaring of shoulders as the guys anticipated his next move. Instead, Finn stalked towards the exit, his back stiff with anger.

"Where are you going?" Mike called out.

"I'm through with this shit," he yelled back.

"Fuck," Puck cursed softly.

"Someone wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?" Sam said. "No one pops off like that from an elbow to the mouth."

"I have no idea," Mike said, his face full of concern. "He's been off since we all got here."

Blaine pulled out his phone, sending a quick message to Kurt.

Sam shook his head. His shoulder ached from the hit and he was almost positive there'd be a bruise later. "Fuck," he groaned. "The bastard doesn't hit like a bitch anymore."

The guys let out a collective chuckle of relief. "You alright man," Puck asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Just confused as shit. Still a bit pissed off, but that will pass."

"Well this is ridiculous," Artie said. "This is why we can't have nice things."

"I thought you said you were all about the drama for this reunion," Matt said, grinning at his friend. The air was a bit lighter after the dark cloud of tension dissipated.

Artie shrugged. "I said drama, not bloodshed. Speaking of blood, no one noticed that Irish is passed the fuck out?" He pointed behind the group.

Six pairs of eyes followed the direction of Artie's finger. Sure enough, Rory was on the ground, completely knocked out and deathly pale.

"Jesus!" Blaine exclaimed. "Is he okay?"

"He said something about being queasy about blood," Matt said.

Sam nodded. "It's always made him skittish."

"Ridiculous," Artie said.

* * *

><p>"Shit," Kurt muttered. He typed a message on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket. "We gotta go."<p>

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked, helping herself to Tina's leftover bacon.

Kurt huffed. "As usual, whenever we get together, drama is sure to follow. There was a bit of a scuffle while the guys were playing basketball."

"Of course," Lauren said. "What did Puckerman do this time? I keep telling him to stop running his damn mouth. That ass never knows when to shut up."

Kurt shook his head, his blue eyes gazing at his best friend. "Oddly enough, Puck was the one to break up the fight. It was Sam and Finn."

Mercedes, who'd been talking to Tina, snapped to attention. "What?" She rolled her eyes at Kurt's knowing glance. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Blaine just said something went down between the two, and that we should drop by the school." He signaled for their server, who brought the check over.

"I got this!" Sugar exclaimed.

Mercedes shook her head. "Sweetie, you don't have to pay the bill. We're all capable." She was about to ask the server to split the bill, when Rachel grabbed the slip of paper out of her hand.

"I'll take care of it, Mercedes. As an apology for my behavior earlier. I was still feeling a bit under the weather and I behaved rather ridiculously."

To say everyone was shocked was an understatement.

"Whoa," Quinn said.

"This must be one of the first signs of the apocalypse," Lauren joked.

"Thank you, Rachel" Mercedes said, her lips pulling into a surprised smile. Her eyes widened further when the small brunette returned the gesture before leaving to pay the bill at the counter.

"That was really nice of her," Brittany said.

Santana scoffed. "Oh please. Most likely it's all on Daddy Randall and his black card."

"Must you be so bitter, Satan?" Kurt said, shooting the girl a dark look. "Ease up on her."

"Okay," Tina interrupted. "Maybe this is just me, because we all know I'm nosy as hell, but why were Finn and Sam fighting? Isn't anyone else curious?"

"My guess would be food," Santana offered. "They're both fatties."

Kurt's eyes darted to Mercedes, who was busy getting a pointed look from Quinn. "Like I said, Blaine didn't say." He stood up from the table. "We should get going."

The ladies rose from the table. Lauren announced she had to go to the bathroom, and Sugar and Kurt followed suit. Santana, Tina, and Brittany decided to wait by the cars, which left Mercedes alone at the counter with Rachel.

"Thank you again, Rachel" she said, attempting to make conversation.

Rachel smiled shyly, signing the receipt with flourish before handing it back to the cashier. "Thank you, Mercedes."

"For what?" she asked, confusion in her tone.

"For trying to keep the peace. For always being the sensible one in the midst of all the drama. And for putting up with me." The tiny girl fidgeted, her fingers folding a stray napkin into small squares. "We've lived in New York for eight years, and I've been horrible to you."

Mercedes nodded, trying to keep the shock out of her stare. "Yeah, you have."

That caught Rachel off-guard, as if she wasn't expecting Mercedes to agree. "W-well I just want to let you know…we've always been at opposite ends of the spectrum, but I admire your talent. And your courage. You are who you are without any apologies. You're always so sure of yourself." Rachel glanced up and Mercedes saw the nervous look in her dark eyes. "I wish I could say the same."

This was definitely confusing; she didn't hate Rachel. Their relationship had long since grown out of the animosity and competition stage, and now she regarded her diva counterpart with cool detachment. Yes, they were both performers, but they were vastly different.

Mercedes actually admired Rachel's determination and 'No Guts, No Glory' attitude. The girl was nothing if not determined when it came to success. But Mercedes didn't approve of the lengths she went to in order to achieve said success. The title crown was earned, but you didn't have to step on or berate others to get it.

"Rachel, you are sure of yourself" she said, patting her arm gently. "You know what you want, and even though you can get intense as hell about it, I understand you're intentions. You and I will never be besties, because our personalities are far too strong to withstand, but I have respect for your talent. I'm not sure where this is coming from."

Rachel sighed, brushing her chestnut bangs out of her eyes. "During my inebriation period last night, I realized that while I've always had a fair amount of respect for your craft, I suppose I never really showed it properly. "

"Girl, are you still drunk?"

That seemed to lighten the mood considerably and they both smiled. "Rachel, don't worry about it. I've known you since we were seven years old. You're you. You'll always be you. And I'm gonna be me. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

Rachel nodded. "That seems fair. And, I just want you to know, whenever Kurt and I go on our adventures, you are always welcome."

Mercedes grinned, shaking her head. "One hurdle at a time, Streisand."

Kurt, Sugar and Lauren returned and they all headed out to the parking lot. "See you at school!" Sugar called out as Kurt practically shoved her inside Lauren's truck.

The drive over to McKinley was filled with incessant chatter from Brittany and Tina, while Santana complained about Quinn's choice of music. Mercedes was driving; she needed to concentrate on something else other than the wild thoughts buzzing about in her head.

What the hell were they fighting about, she thought. Mercedes rolled her eyes. Like she didn't know. Sam and Finn's relationship was always rocky at best. She knew, despite his protests that a small part of Sam never really forgave Finn for going behind his back with Quinn.

Well maybe that was too harsh. Sam wasn't the type to hold grudges, and she did believe he liked Finn, but what he and Quinn did to him, those feelings he felt (anger, betrayal) were still there in a small part of his subconscious.

But this wasn't high school, she wasn't Quinn, and most importantly she and Sam weren't together. But they still meant something to each other. But where the hell did Finn fit in?

She sighed. This problem was starting to get on her nerves.

The car pulled into the parking lot near the gym. The guys were seated in the bed of Puck's pickup truck, and she noticed right away that both Finn and Sam were missing.

"Well, you can take the boys out of high school but clearly your immature asses can't leave high school shit behind you." Lauren glared at Puck, who smiled sheepishly at his girlfriend.

"Sorry, babe. I don't even know what happened. One minute we were playing, Sam and Finn both went up for the shot, and Sam's elbow clipped Finn. And that's when shit got real."

Lauren rolled her eyes before landing a playful punch on his shoulder.

"So where is Sam now?" Quinn asked.

"Mike took him and Rory to Puck's house," Blaine answered. "He said something about meeting with Mercedes later, and Rory wasn't feeling well."

"Rory!" Sugar exclaimed. "What happened to my Boo Bear?"

There was a round of muffled snorts at the obnoxious nickname before Artie said "Boo Bear apparently can't handle blood. His ass passed out on the floor. Matt and Mike had to carry him outta the gym."

Kurt huffed. "So where is Finn?"

The guys glanced at each other, mumbling incoherently before Matt spoke up. "We're not really sure. After everything went down, he flipped out saying that Sam always got what he wanted, and that he should have never come back. Then he just left."

Artie nodded. "We've tried calling him, but he won't answer his phone. He's acting like a damn baby, and I'm not here for it. What happened was an accident."

"It's weird, though" Puck said. "Finn and Sam are total hotheads, but I've never seen Hudson act like that. Well that's not true…he hulked the fuck out when he found out about me and Quinn."

Kurt and Mercedes glanced at each other while Quinn cleared her throat. "Do you think we should go looking for him?"

"Why?" Santana asked. "He's probably off somewhere crying ugly Finnocence tears because Sam hurt his feelings."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Really, Santana?"

The dark haired woman whipped around to face her pint-sized sparring partner. "Listen, you are still on a verbal timeout with me, so I would suggest shutting up before I forget my promise to my fellow Troubletone."

"Alright you two," Mercedes said with a sigh. "Lock it up. I'll go see if I can find Finn."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Puck asked.

Mercedes shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. Just wait right here." She made her way towards the school, stepping through the side entrance near the gym. Nostalgia hit hard, washing over her, the memories flooding back. Some were good; others not so much. As she passed through the Phys. Ed. wing, she couldn't help but smile. High school was long over, and being back in the hallowed halls was surreal. It even smelled the same: chalk, wet ink from a fresh off the press copy of _The Muckraker_, cafeteria pizza, and the faint, lingering odor of teenage anxiety.

She pulled out her phone, locating Finn's number. Mercedes could hear his phone ringing in the distance, the sound of the Buzzcocks 'Ever Fallen in Love' bouncing off the walls of the empty building. Wincing at the connotation behind that particular ringtone, she followed the noise.

It was coming from the boys' locker room. Finn didn't answer his phone, but there was no need. Mercedes pushed open the door to the locker room, the scent of sweaty gym socks and dirty teenage boy slapping her in the face.

Walking past the large paneled window, she spotting him at the first bank of red metal lockers. He was straddling the wooden bench that ran in the middle of the lockers, his back facing her. He was hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees as his hands cradled the back of his neck. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders.

Mercedes sent a quick text to Kurt, letting him know that Finn was found. Sliding her phone back into her purse, she approached him. "Finn?" she called gently. She placed a small hand on his large shoulder. He tensed at the contact, but didn't turn around. She sighed. "Finn…everyone's worried about you."

Slowly he turned his body in her direction, his head still down. Mercedes stepped forward, gingerly cupping his chin, tilting his face upwards. "Oh, Finn." She winced at the sight of his busted bottom lip. It was swollen and already turning a ugly purplish-reddish color.

Even with his face tilted up, Finn refused to look at her; his eyes were fixed on a spot to his left.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Ask your boyfriend," he hissed.

Mercedes felt the sting of his words. He wasn't just hurt. He was fucking furious, the rage quietly seething under his deceptively calm tone. "Was this…did this happen because of…"

He chuckled, the bitter sound echoing hollowly in the locker room. "You? Don't flatter yourself, Mercedes." He wrenched his chin from her grasp.

Mercedes' temper flared. "You know, I've tried to be mindful of your feelings throughout this whole thing, and all you've done is throw everything back at me. What the fuck is your problem?"

Finn finally glanced at her then, a myriad of emotions in his whiskey-colored eyes. "What am I to you, Mercedes?"

She faltered a bit. That wasn't the response she'd anticipated. "What?"

"You heard me. What am I to you? I'm sure as hell not your boyfriend. I'm not your fuck buddy, at least not anymore." He let out another bitter chuckle. "I don't think we're even friends at this point. To be honest, most days I feel like your personal dildo. Get in, dick her down, and then leave before feelings get involved." He studied her, gauging her reaction to his bold words. "Is that who I am, Mercedes? Just the regular dick to get you off?"

Mercedes clenched her fists, the shock bubbling into irritation at his accusations, before melting into guilt over making him feel like that, to finally giving way to understanding. "Finn," she started, her voice cracking slightly. "You were never that. We were friends. We were both lonely. We wanted something, something both of us needed at the time. But…things can't be more than what they are between us. And we both know that. You were never just hard dick to me, Finn. You were…we shared something. Something really special together. It's just…"

"…not as special as what you have with Sam." He finished. He stood up, towering over her in his full height.

"Why do you do that? Why do you keep bringing him into everything?"

Finn stared at her, an incredulous look on his bruised face as he leaned against the wall of lockers. "Let's not kid ourselves here, Mercedes. Sam's been in this all along."

He was right; and she knew it. But it didn't stop her from reacting to the pain on his face. He'd known all along how much she loved Sam, how she could never stop loving him. And yet, he played the game. "Finn, why would…"

He shook his head. "Don't ask me that. Don't ask me that, because I'll tell you the truth and you won't like the answer, and I'll hate myself for adding another layer of bullshit to this sad ass triangle that was never really a triangle to begin with."

"You want to know why I ended things between us?" she asked. "I saw the way you looked at me, the way you held me. We were heading into a situation that would have ended with both of us hurting and angry with one another."

There was a lump in her throat and she forced herself to swallow the tears threatening to spill. "I couldn't stand the thought of resenting you, not when we were such good friends and the way we cared for each other. And thinking about how much you hate me right now makes my whole heart hurt, because you mean so much to me and I'm sorry." She bit back her emotions. "I'm so sorry Finn. I never meant to hurt you. I swear I didn't."

Finn wasn't mad at her. Truth was…he could never hate Mercedes. But at that moment, his emotions were freaking him out and he wasn't ready to say 'I forgive you'. A small part of him wanted her to hurt, to feel as vulnerable and open and as wrecked as he felt. No, he couldn't say the words.

Mercedes glanced up at him. "Finn? Say something. Please."

He moved towards her, closing the gap between them. Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, hissing slightly at the pain of his busted lip.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the faint smell of him, a heady mixture of sweat and cologne. There was so much said in that kiss, the tenderness of it nearly crushing her spirit. But at the same time, she felt free.

Finn stepped back, clenching his hands, fearing he would touch her again if he lingered too close. With one last look, he turned and headed away from the locker room, using the side entrance near Coach Beiste's office.

Mercedes watched him walk away, never noticing the tiny brunette figure witnessing their interaction.

* * *

><p>"Sam. Hey."<p>

Sam quirked a smile in Quinn's direction as he stepped inside the Jones residence. "Hey, Q. Is Cedes here?"

Quinn nodded. "She's here, alright. Been trapped in that damn room for almost two hours, playing her guitar."

Sam frowned. "Really? What's going on?"

The blonde shrugged, but Sam noticed a small look cross her pretty features. Quinn was definitely hiding something. "I think it's just best if you go talk to her," she finally said. "I'm actually heading out to do some shopping with Santana and Britt. I'll be back later with dinner."

She grabbed Mercedes' keys and headed out the door. Sam climbed the stairs; sure enough, the sound of a guitar and Mercedes' lovely voice spilled out from her room, drawing him closer.

He smiled. It'd been awhile since he crossed this particular threshold. There were so many good memories in that bedroom with the crazy décor. Sam stopped in the doorway, watching as she played. He faintly recognized the tune, but he was more affected by her voice than the song.

That damn voice was his undoing. When he first heard her sing, all those years ago in glee club…it was like being awakened. Her voice was like sunshine and it made him feel so warm and blessed and just thankful to be near. It was a wonder, how such a small person could exude so much strength and power in her voice, and yet, in the same breath sound sultry and gentle like a sizzling summer evening. Mercedes was so talented and he was always awestruck.

Before parting their senior year, he'd taught her a few simple chords to play. She was already a master at piano, and had tried the drums at one point, but she was eager to learn guitar; Sam was all too willing to play teacher. They spent many summer days sitting in their secret garden, her back pressed against his front, large, slightly calloused pale hands covering small, satiny brown ones as he tried to show her how to properly curve and form her fingers.

Most days their lessons would be interrupted by gentle kisses that quickly turned into breathless moans and heavy pants, and Mercedes ending up with grass stains on her favorite sundresses.

She'd obviously kept up with her studies, because now she was playing like a pro. Her eyes were closed; she was curled up in a large, purple and black chair in a corner of the room, near the window. Her curls fell gently in her face as she played. He just listened to her song, and tried to make out the lyrics.

_I remember, how could I forget how you feel?  
>And though you were my first time, a new feel<br>It won't ever get old, not in my soul  
>Not in my spirit, keep it alive<br>We'll go down this road  
>'Til it turns from color to black and white<em>

Sam's heart clenched. She was singing about him, about their time together. There was so much emotion and force behind her words. Mercedes usually sang with emphasis and feeling, but the words were stroking something deep in his soul. He felt everything she felt: pain, hurt, want, and love. Love so deep and strong it practically burned in his chest. And then he knew; she still loved him. She never stopped.

_Do you not think so far ahead? 'Cause I've been thinking 'bout forever… _

Mercedes' hands stilled on the guitar as she opened her eyes. Sam was standing in her doorway, an unreadable look on his face.

"Quinn let me in," he said, his voice a bit lower and she shivered at the sound. "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you."

She let out a long sigh. "It's okay. What's up?" She felt a little exposed and wondered how long he'd been standing there.

"I told you I was stopping by for a bit, remember?" He didn't know why he was feeling so nervous all of a sudden. "I can always come back another time."

"No," she said quickly. "No, it's okay. Stay. Please."

"Okay." He walked over, sitting in the matching purple and black chair. She was chewing on her bottom lip, a sure sign that something was up. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just got a few things on my mind, you know?"

Sam nodded. "I hear you. Today was a weird day. Finn completely went Bruce Banner on me. I have no idea where the hell that came from."

Mercedes tensed at the mention of Finn, but quickly shook those feelings away. "Yeah, I heard things got a little heated on the court. Are you okay?"

"My shoulder still hurts a bit. He hit me pretty hard, that sonofabitch."

"Would you like some Icy/Hot?"

Sam glanced up at her. "I would love some, actually. For all the sports therapy he does, Puck only had Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. I think he's got the good shit hidden somewhere."

Mercedes chuckled, setting her guitar next to the chair. "I'll be right back." She padded to the adjoining bathroom, and Sam enjoyed the view of her round ass bouncing shamelessly in tight, dark purple leggings. She returned a few moments later with a small white tube.

"Do you want me to put it on you?" she asked.

Sam smirked. "Are we still talking about the medicine, or are you trying to rub me down in a different way? Can't we do both?"

She rolled her eyes, even as she tried to hide her grin. "You know exactly what I meant, jackass. Now take off your shirt, and try to keep your 'ain't shit' behavior to a minimum."

"Can't make any promises, Cedes." Sam unzipped the blue hoodie, tossing it on the chair. Gingerly, he lifted his red t-shirt from his body. He smirked a little when he heard her breathing hitch. It'd been awhile, and it was nice to know he still had the same effect on her.

Mercedes bit her lip. Eight years, and the man was still fine. Hell, his ass got better with age. He was a bit bigger, and his muscles were still tight and defined. She tried not to focus on his abs, and instead turned her attention to his shoulder. "Sam," she started. There was a large bruise purpling his pale skin. "Shit."

"That bad, huh?" he joked.

"I've seen worse. It's still pretty ugly though." Mercedes stepped forward, her fingers brushing against the bruise. She watched his face for any sign of discomfort. "I'll be gentle," she said.

Sam shot her a brilliant smile. "Now where's the fun in that, sweetness?"

"Boy…" laughing, she unscrewed the cap and dabbed out a bit of the thick paste-like medicine. She rubbed the stuff on her hands before massaging it into his shoulders.

"Fuck," he hissed. Instinctively, he reached out, his free arm grabbing her thigh. His fingers gripped her flesh tight.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" Mercedes eyes were filled with concern.

"Yeah," he replied tightly. He breathed deep, shutting him eyes for a moment before glancing up at her. "It's okay, baby" he reassured her, his large hand rubbing her thigh."I'm fine."

Mercedes turned her attention back to his shoulder, and tried not to think about his hand. He was still rubbing her thigh. His skin was warm, and she could feel him through the thin material of the leggings. With every rub, up and down, his hand seemed to be moving higher.

When his fingers brushed the inside of her thigh, her fingers faltered on his skin. She quickly recovered, but Sam spotted it easily. He smirked. "I forgot how good of a nurse you are, Cedes. Remember the time I had the flu?"

"You mean the time you were a big ass baby who refused to take your medicine unless I gave it to you? Or when you couldn't sleep unless I made you special 'chicken and stars' soup and cuddled with you?"

Sam chuckled, his green eyes meeting hers. "I'm a guy, sweetness. We're only allowed to be big ol' babies when we're sick. You even watched The Chipmunk Adventure with me."

Mercedes smiled, her fingers gently pressing into his skin. "That was for both of us. The Chipmunk Adventure is only the best animated movie of all time."

"Smart girl. You always took such good care of me, even if I was being a baby."

She shrugged. "That's because you **are **my bab..." She quickly cut herself off, dropping her hands from his shoulder.

Sam studied her, the look in his eyes unreadable. "Your what, Mercedes?"

Mercedes stepped back. "Your shoulder should be good now. I'm gonna go wash my hands." Sam watched as she turned quickly and practically fled into the bathroom.

Calm down, she thought to herself as she washed her hands. She couldn't explain why being around him was making her jumpy. This was Sam. But he was more than that, so much more. He was her first, her best friend, her ex, her love, the one who broke her heart when he left the first time, the one who fought for her heart when he returned, the one who healed her heart when she said she needed time, and the one who kept her heart when they went their separate ways. Sam.

When she emerged from the bathroom, he was still there, still sitting shirtless in the chair. He looked up, his eyes never leaving hers as she moved towards him.

"Why, Sam?" she asked, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He seemed confused for a moment before responding. "Why so long? I don't know."

"Eight years. I was so lonely."

Sam sighed. "Me too, baby. Me too."

She was standing between his legs now. His hands reached up once more, gripping her thick thighs and she sighed. "Is this our second chance, Sam? Is this what's supposed to happen? Because it feels right."

His head rested on the soft roundness of her belly as she ran her fingers through his hair, the tips of her fingers trailing gently across the nape of his neck. "It does. It feels so good." Sam pulled her forward, forcing her to straddle his lap. His hands gripped her hips as he titled her chin up, forcing her to look in his eyes.

What he saw there, was a mirror image of his own emotions: fear, need, love. So much love. But the hurt, the fear of abandonment clouded everything. They'd stayed away too long, hurt each other, and for what? "What good did staying away do?" he rumbled. His eyes closed briefly as she threaded her fingers once more through his hair.

She was so gentle with him, mindful of his shoulder when she rested her forehead against his. "I tried," she whispered. "Calling you; I tried so many times. I would see you online, and I told myself it would be so easy to say hi…something, anything. But I don't know…I was scared."

Their eyes met, and she shuddered. "When did we become those people, Sammy? I thought we were better than this, that our love was better than this."

"I don't know, sweetness" he rumbled, his deep voice sending another set of shivers down her spine. "I was trying to give you a fair go at things. Wouldn't have done either of us any good to be pinin' for something that we couldn't see through all the way."

His hands traveled further, gripping her ass, kneading the soft flesh. Mercedes moaned. It'd been so long since being in his arms, and her body was reacting accordingly. She cupped his face. "And what about now, Sammy" she breathed, her chestnut eyes never leaving his. "What about now? Can we see this through?"

Sam was silent, pondering her question for a moment before pressing his lips to hers. Mercedes let out a shaky breath, and he seized the opportunity, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Her taste was just as he remembered, and they both moaned from the contact. His traveling hands slid up her body, trailing along the tight dip of her hips and waist to cup her full breasts through the lightweight tunic shirt she wore.

Her hips gave an involuntary thrust and they both cried out from the sensation. Their kisses turned deeper as they sought to rediscover one another.

Time had passed, they were both different, but their love, what they shared, how perfectly in sync they were…that was unchanging.

Sam pulled away, both of them breathing heavy. His green eyes blazed with lust so deep it made her tremble with anticipation. His lips were bright red, and just as kiss-swollen as hers. She smiled sweetly as he nuzzled her nose. "Let's give it a try, sweetness" he said, kissing her shoulder. "Let's give it a try."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, a cliffhanger...I'm such a douche. Up next in Ch. 6: Tons of Samcedes. Sam and Mercedes heat up, Someone loses their cool, a New Directions talent show, a little bit of alcohol...and SHIT. GETS. REAL. Thanks for reading. Your reviews give me life!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6: Lie to Me

**AN: So...it's been a year. And what a year. Between RPing and writer's block...finishing this chapter was a bitch. But thank you, for all your messages and comments. I felt awful about sitting on this for so long, but sometimes my muse is a salty, fickle hag. My words are slowly returning to me, so I'm grateful. And I'm thankful for everyone who patiently waited for this.**

* * *

><p><em>Please, lets not get into this tonight<br>See, it's easy and it's what you like  
>Don't call me foolish 'cause I'm not<br>Just be the lover when I want  
>If I'm hated, well it's not my fault, I swear<br>_

_Now, don't you go and think its love  
>Well, how did you think that's where I'm coming from<br>_

-_"When I Want", Jimmy Eat World_

* * *

><p>His hands were everywhere.<p>

Mercedes moaned, sucking on the plump, smooth flesh of his lower lip as Sam's nimble fingers plucked and tweaked her sensitive nipples through the black lace bra. She'd squeaked slightly when he'd lifted her from the chair and carried her over to the bed.

He gazed down at her briefly, pouty lips curving into a crooked smile as he slid between her thighs, hips pressed against hers. Mercedes sighed as he kissed her hard, his bulk heavy and welcome against her curves. He took his time, the meeting of their lips slow and aching, making her arch into him, needing to taste more of those heavy kisses, wanting more than his teasing lips.

She missed this; the weight of him, the slow grind of hips that knew how to thrust against her, with just the right amount of pressure that would leave her soaked, core throbbing while her fingers tugged at his hair. Her legs spread wider, a low keening sound escaping her throat as she felt him, the weight of his bulge, rubbing against her center, the heat of her prominent through the thin leggings, the friction so delicious, she saw stars.

"Sam," she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips, hanging on a soft whimper as he thrust hard, his hips snapping into a slow roll that had him gripping the sheets and leaning in to capture those full lips once more, anxious for her.

"Sit up, sweetness" he cooed, teeth grazing the soft skin of her jawline. Mercedes complied, propping herself up on her elbows as his hands snaked around to unclip her bra, as she made to take off his shirt, gingerly mindful of the bruise on his shoulder.

Sam tossed the bra to the side, his eyes focused on her chest. His large hands cupped her breasts, the pad of his thumbs brushing over her nipples. Mercedes moaned, her back arching into his touch. Sam grinned, planting a gentle kiss on each breast before taking the right nipple into his mouth. A sharp whimper pierced the relative silence of the room as Sam sucked and nibbled on her sensitive buds, alternating between each breast. She laughed when he released her nipple with a pop.

"Had to say hello to the girls, first. Lola and Cookie seemed like they missed me."

She giggled and pressed a small kiss to his pout. "They missed you. I missed you," she added softly.

Cupping her face in his hands, Sam captured her lips, his tongue slipping in, drowning in the heady taste of her sweetness and those kisses. "I missed you too," he murmured. His lips brushed against the smooth dip of her neck, breathing in her familiar scent of peppermint from her shampoo and the intoxicating mixture of lilac and amber in her perfume. "You smell delicious," he groaned. Blunt teeth nipped at her skin, trailing down to her collarbone, his lips hot against her skin.

His fingers dipped into her wetness, and she groaned, rocking against his fingers, silently pleading for him to touch her, only a little more. "Fuck, Sam." She felt those lips curl into a smirk against her skin as he continued his efforts, teasing her opening with light strokes . "I plan to, sweetheart." Sam moved away, long enough to tug down her leggings, tossing them to the side. His hands smoothed up her soft calves, stopping at her knees and spreading her thighs wide before lowering his head.

She smelled divine, the inside of those thick thighs coated with cream and he took his time, trailing his tongue across the soft skin, lapping up every bit of nectar she had to offer. The process was slow, and by the time he pressed those full lips to her center, she was soaked and throbbing, hips humping against his face in an effort to feel something.

Sam wasn't one to keep a lady waiting, so he obliged, sucking on her clit, sweet like candy as he slipped two fingers into wetness, curving up, just enough to hit her spot, pumping his digits in a slow rhythm.

Her hips moved in time with his fingers, her body trembling from his tongue, thighs trembling from those lips sucking greedily. After all that time apart, he still knew what she needed. She was his favorite instrument, and in his expert hands, he knew all the right touches to bring out the best notes.

Mercedes moved in earnest, practically riding his face as she felt the ball of warmth in the pit of her stomach begin to grow with every flick of tongue and when he added a third finger, she clutched at his hair, fingers tugging hard as the warm, shaky feeling threatened to overtake her.

"Oh my god," she moaned. "Sam."

His peridot eyes met hers, lifting his head long enough to ask "You gonna come for me, Cedes?"

She bit her lip, her chest heaving from the building pressure as her hips worked overtime. It'd been so long, so fucking long and she needed this one. "Fuck. Yes". Mercedes was near tears, and she didn't know why. Everything was building quickly inside of her and it was all too much. His lips, his tongue, his fingers, the way he kept staring at her.

Sensing her resistance, Sam shot her a smile. "It's okay, baby. I got you. Just let go." Those reassuring words, coupled with his easy smile and a hard thrust of his fingers was enough to send her over the edge.

With a low wail she climaxed, sobbing his name, her back arched in pleasure as her continued to ride his fingers, hips pumping in time with the throb and clench of her walls. For his part, Sam was patient, pumping his digits slowly as she rode out her high. Slipping his fingers from her, he sucked them into his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring that sweet taste he missed so much.

Sitting upright, he moved to her side, a little surprised when she wrapped her arms around his neck, but he held her, hands tight around her waist. "Cedes…baby…."

Mercedes silenced him, her lips crashing against his, messy kisses filled with need, so palpable it made him ache with the effort to control himself. He cupped her face in his hands as his tongue licked the delicious seam of her plump lips, begging for entry. She moaned at the taste of herself on him and her hand traveled down his torso before cupping the bulge in his pants.

"Fuck," Sam hissed, pulling away from the kiss.

Mercedes brushed her lips against his cheek as she undid the zipper and button on his jeans. Her small, chubby fingers reached in, past his boxer briefs to catch his dick in a gentle grip.

He kissed her once more, their tongues moving in tandem to the firm swipe of her incredibly soft hand on his length Her thumb brushed the sensitive tip and he bit back a whimper.

"Cedes," he shuddered. "Baby, I…"

"I need you to fuck me, Sammy" she whispered. She looked up at him through long, ink-colored lashes, those chestnut eyes pleading for him to soothe the ache. "Please?" Mercedes kissed his cheek, trailing gentle pecks along his jaw, soft lapping licks against his stubble, before nipping at his neck.

Her grip on his dick slackened, gradually reduced to slow, agonizing strokes that damn near had him thrusting his hips into her hand. Sam stilled her movements, covering her hand with his much larger one before removing it from his pants.

Rising from the bed, Sam quickly undressed, his eyes never leaving hers as she settled back on the pillows against the headboard. The look in her soft brown eyes was full of so much longing, it made his heart hurt. Sam reached into his wallet and grabbed a condom before moving back to the bed.

His body slid against her curvy form, their lips meeting in another one of those hungry, messy kisses, sucking at her, nipping her flesh. She whimpered when he pulled away, long enough to rip the shiny gold foil and tossing the empty package aside.

Mercedes grabbed the condom from him, her tiny fingers rolling the latex on over his hardness and he clenched his jaw at the tenderness in her touch. She leaned up, meeting his lips in a timid kiss. Cupping her face, he brought her closer. He sat up, forcing her to straddle his lap. She lifted her hips as he guided his cock inside her. She was wet, so incredibly wet and warm.

She gasped at the feeling of complete fullness as she slid down on his dick. She could feel practically every ridge and pulse of him and she bit her lip. "Sam," she whispered. He gave one sharp thrust upward, gripping her hips as she bottomed out, the sensation making them both cry out.

One hand tightened around her waist as the other fisted her glossy dark curls. "Fuck, Cedes" he growled. "So fucking good."

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Mercedes threaded her fingers through his dirty blond locks, her hips meeting his hard thrusts, the torturous grind that left the blond groaning her name.

The position offered them plenty of intimacy, and they watched through heavy-lidded eyes and deep breaths as their bodies moved in unison, attempting to seek out their pleasure. Sam lowered his gaze as his full lips sought out a dark nipple. Moving his hand from her hair, he cupped her breast, his tongue snaking out to nip and lick at the sensitive bud.

Mercedes threw her head back, the sensation sending jolts of hot need racing down her spine. Her hips bucked as she increase her rhythm, squeezing him in a vice-like grip. Sam moaned, his head falling briefly on her chest as he willed himself not to come too soon. "You feel so fucking good," he rumbled, lifting his face to hers.

A small smile played on her lips as he pecked the dimple near her mouth. This is was the Sam she remembered; the guy who held her close, loved her down, and whispered naughty things to make her come hard and leave her trembling. Flush with excitement, she moved faster, clenching him tighter.

"Ah, just like that" he grunted. His grip tightened on her hips as his thrusts grew harder.

She leaned forward, teeth nipping bluntly at his earlobe. "Just as good as you remember?" she cooed. Mercedes grinned when she felt him shudder a little before answering her with a gruff 'yeah'.

Sam felt like he was on the verge of combustion. Sensory overload was making him feel lightheaded and the only thing his addled brain could process was 'make her come'. It was perfect, it was so fucking perfect and he missed the way her pussy curved around his dick. So soft, so incredibly wet, so…his. That realization made him growl.

Tipping forward, he let her back hit the bed as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her legs wider. The new angle made her whimper and her fingers clawed and twisted the sheets. Sam bit his lip, watching as she gasped and sighed in pleasure. One large hand gripped her thigh as he snapped his hips in a tight roll, hitting that gloriously sweet spot. Two fingers pressed against her clit, strumming the little button.

"Oh god, Sam!"

"Good, baby?" he asked, snapping his hips in a move that produced the sweetest of screams and he couldn't help but grin. "Feels good doesn't it? You gonna come for me, sweetheart Come on, Mercy. Let me hear those high notes."

He rolled her clit between his calloused fingers and she let out a small wail before sinking into a deep and blissful climax. Her walls squeezed him, almost painfully and he came with a low growl. Sam loosened his grip on her thigh before collapsing on top of her, his face buried in her neck. He could feel the sweet kisses she placed on his shoulder and felt her tiny fingers combing through his sweaty hair as they tried to settle the erratic thumping of their hearts.

Mercedes sighed, her body still tingling all over. She shifted a little and was surprised when Sam lifted his head. "Do you want me to move?" he asked, his green eyes a little nervous.

She shook her head before bringing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. "No. I missed this part. Feeling the weight of you. I don't know…it always made me feel so safe."

He ducked his head, his lips brushing against her cheek. "I'll be right back," he whispered. Sam slid from the warmth of her embrace and padded to the adjoining bathroom. He quickly disposed of the condom before sliding back into bed, cuddling behind Mercedes. A small groan escaped when he pulled her soft body against his. "I forgot how this felt."

A soft smile graced her mouth and she pulled his arms tighter around her. "I know what you mean." The aftereffects of her climax were slowly wearing off, but the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach remained, growing stronger and fanning out all over her body.

"What's on your mind, sweetness?"

"How'd you know?"

Sam chuckled, the sound low and deep and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. "'Cause I know you. Been a long time, but I haven't forgotten how you get. D'you regret this?"

She could hear the uncertainty in his voice, a vulnerable tone she wasn't used to hearing from him. Sam was always so sure about everything, at least when it came to them. And then she had to remind herself that technically there wasn't a 'them' to speak of. But she knew in her heart the real answer to his question.

"No." Her voice was firm and sure. She turned to him, her small hands cupping his face. "I don't know what we are, or what we're going to be, but I know that this feels right. It always felt right with you. So we'll play this out, yeah? Just see where everything goes."

He studied her face, feeling slightly relieved at the lack of uncertainty in her eyes. Part of him was a little disappointed in her response. Not like he was expecting her to run back to him automatically; but what they'd just shared was special. It wasn't just 'reunion sex'. Not to him, at least. And from the way she touched him, he was sure she felt something else too.

Still, he didn't want to push her. She obviously had stuff to work out, and Sam was determined not to overcrowd her. He nodded slowly, lips meeting hers in a soft kiss. "Okay then. We'll see where it goes."

* * *

><p>"Wow. You two are disgustingly adorable." Quinn rolled her eyes for the tenth time in an hour as she lifted her beer bottle to her lips. She bit back a smile as she took a generous sip of the domestic brew, studying her two friends preparing dinner.<p>

Sam had appointed himself head chef, joking that Mercedes needed plenty of assistance, as her disasters in the kitchen were well documented. But as they prepped and cooked the meal, Quinn noticed he was more of a hindrance than help. Plenty of times, she had to wince as fingers were too close to knives or when the steaks sizzled a bit too loudly because the chefs were too busy sneaking kisses and getting handsy.

Setting her beer on the marble countertop, Quinn folded her arms and watched as Mercedes flipped the sizzling steaks in the pan on the stove, giggling as Sam whispered in her ear, his muscular form pressed against her back. "Evans, if she burns my damn steak because you can't keep your hands to yourself, you're paying for takeout."

Mercedes laughed, elbowing Sam in the ribcage. "Back up, boy! She's serious about her food. And you know how I get in the kitchen. Either keep watch or move away" She turned around long enough to give him a quick kiss before returning her focus to the stove. "Dinner's almost ready. Set the table and stop getting fresh."

Sam ducked another hit and grabbed the plates, sliding sock-covered feet across the hardwood floor to the round table in the kitchen. "Q, get the forks."

Quinn obliged, grabbing the flatware and following the blond to the table. "So," she said, placing the forks and knives next to the plates. "You two seem cozy."

His shoulders lifted in a casual shrug at her observation and he set down the last plate. "Yeah, I guess we do. Is that a problem?"

It was Quinn's turn to shrug. "Don't you think it's a little soon? You guys haven't seen in each other in eight years, and suddenly it's 'Sammy and Cedes' time all over again?"

Sam frowned at the blonde woman, his gaze flickering to Mercedes who was busy in the fridge, humming softly. "What are you getting at, Q?"

"I'm just saying…you have no idea what her life's been like. And I bet you never even stopped to ask. You have the best intentions and you're an amazing guy, Sam. You've always been one of the good ones. But you're impulsive and determined as hell when you really want something." Quinn lowered her voice and ushered Sam into the hallway. "She's not that same girl from high school. And if you're back here trying to recreate what you two had in those days, I think you're going to be disappointed."

He tilted his head, studying her curiously for a moment before responding. "I mean…I guess you're right. Actually, I know you are. I don't know what I'm doing, Q. Being here, being with her like that...it brought back so many memories. And maybe I'm feeling guilty. Like…maybe I should've fought harder for what we had. For what we could've had. I know she's different. I'm just trying to get to know that girl in there. 'Cause I still see the traces of the Mercedes I fell in love with. The one, honestly…I never stopped loving. She can't be that different, right?"

Quinn was silent for a moment; she knew something was up with Mercedes and Finn but she didn't think it was her place to interfere. Her best friend had her reasons for not telling Sam, and she wasn't going to step in the middle of it. "Well…seems like that's something you'll have to talk about with her. Won't know if you don't ask, Sam. You know how she is."

"Yeah, you're right." He smiled and pulled her into a hug. "I forgot how insightful you could be."

"Yeah yeah," Quinn grinned, hugging him back tightly. "You just make sure to slow it down. Ease her into things. Don't force stuff on her. I love my Mercy, but we both know how she reacts when she's pushed into something."

Sam nodded. "I hear you, Q. Tone it down. Check." His arm was still wrapped around her shoulder as they made their way back to the kitchen. "Y'know, all these wise words. Makes a guy wonder why you haven't swept some awesome girl off her feet yet."

Quinn's smile was demure as they spotted Mercedes setting the platter of steaks and a dish of mashed potatoes down on the table. "Just biding my time, Cowboy. Haven't really met a girl who fits my standards." They sat down and Sam immediately reached for Mercedes, pulling her into a soft kiss that made Quinn roll her eyes, despite the smile on her face. "Seriously, STOP. I want to actually enjoy my food, and you two are being so gross right now."

Mercedes moved back to her seat with a small laugh. "Aww, my poor Q. I could always share a few kisses with you too."

"You know how much I enjoyed our lady time," Quinn remarked, shooting her best friend a sly smile as she cut into her steak. She laughed at the curious look on Sam's face. "What? You think you're the only one who's sampled Ms. Mercedes' delights? Much to learn, young Jedi. Much to learn."

Sam's eyebrow cocked in surprise. "Exactly how close are you two?"

Mercedes snorted into her mashed potatoes before reaching out to pinch his cheeks. "Don't you worry about that, babe. Q's just messing with you."

He looked back at Quinn who sipped from her beer, a mischievous gleam in her hazel eyes. "Anyway, I'mma change the subject 'cause I'm so confused right now."

"Wise choice," Quinn replied. Her phone beeped loudly and she picked it up from the table. "Ooh. It's Artie. Saying we should drink or do something tomorrow night. Apparently we all need some down time after the basketball drama." Her gaze slid to Mercedes, who quickly focused on her food.

Sam chewed thoughtfully before speaking. "Did Finn go home?"

"Don't know," Quinn replied. "I'll ask." She typed out a message and it wasn't long before another beep signaled a response. "Nope. Puck and Kurt convinced him to stay."

Sam nodded absently as he finished his steak. "That's good. Still don't know what the hell was up with him. First time I've seen the guy in….maybe three years."

"You've seen him recently?" Mercedes was surprised to hear that. Finn never mentioned running into Sam before.

"Uh, yeah. He was in Pittsburgh a few years back. Some football thing. Got my number from Puck, and we went out for a few beers. Caught up. He was really chill. Not sure what happened today…."

Mercedes bit her lip, pushing around the food on her plate. Quinn frowned but didn't speak on the matter. Instead, she sent Artie a text and put down her phone. "Well I said everyone should come over here tomorrow and hang out. New Directions house party. Just like old times."

"Which means wine coolers, singing, and Rachel crying? I'm so down." Sam wiggled his eyebrows, sending both women into fits of giggles. The earlier tension from the mention of Finn was gone, and Mercedes was able to relax a little.

"Alright, you two" she said, standing up to clear the table. "Clean up time. And then movies?"

"Oh no," Quinn started. She picked up a few dishes and followed Mercedes into the kitchen. "I refuse to spend an entire evening getting outvoted while you two watch your nerd-fest films and make out on the couch like horny teenagers."

Sam laughed as he put away the leftovers. "Then close your eyes, Fabray. Besides, we're not that bad."

"And didn't somebody force me to watch Jurassic Park with her the other night," Mercedes questioned, a teasing lilt to her voice as she loaded the dishwasher. "Just admit you're a closet nerd, Q. Always have been."

"Bite your tongue, Cedes." She tried not to grin at their joking, but a small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I'll leave the fangirling to you two. Besides, I'm going out for a little bit."

"Oh? Where are you headed?" Mercedes arched her brow, shooting Quinn a look. For her part, the blonde shrugged nonchalantly.

"Just out. I should be back in a little. Thought I'd take a nice walk."

Sam and Mercedes exchanged looks, but said nothing. Instead they returned her wave and watched her walk out of the kitchen.

"Huh."

Mercedes turned to Sam, eyeing him as he shook his head and returned to wiping down the countertop. "What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Oh nothing. Old habits, sweetness. Think Q's got a crush on someone."

Mercedes shot him a look. Her arms folded across her ample chest as she leaned against the counter. "In Lima? Really? Who? Quinn hasn't been back here in…years. Who could she know here?" Sam shrugged again and she landed a playful slap to his shoulder. "Stop that!" she laughed loudly at his knowing smirk.

Sam ducked the hit but reached for her anyway, kissing her softly. "Just sayin'. I wouldn't be surprised if she met someone. But," his hands slid to her hips before lifting her easily onto the countertop. "Enough about that. I'm kinda ready for dessert."

"Alright, well I think there's ice cream in the freezer, and maybe some brownies…"

He shook his head, a lock of dirty blond hair falling into peridot eyes and Mercedes shivered as his lips curved into that signature lopsided grin. "Don't want brownies," he replied, his hands shifting from her hips to her thighs, pushing the hemline of her skirt up.

A small gasp escaped and she bit her lip, chestnut eyes watching him intently as large, pale fingers danced across thick, dark thighs. "Sammy…"

"Sweeter than brownies, creamier than the best vanilla shake, and always ready for me." Sam reached for her panties, smirking when she lifted her hips, enough for him to slide them down to her calves. "You gonna let me have my dessert, baby? You know I got a sweet tooth. Don't think this craving's going away anytime soon."

Her response was lost when he touched her core, fingers deftly stroking her wetness and she tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure. It faintly occurred to her they were doing questionable and naughty things in the kitchen where her mother still held her weekly afternoon teas with her bible study group, but in that moment, she wasn't worried about it at all. The look in the blond's eyes was positively sinful, and she was more than willing to ride that particular train into hell.

"Well then." Tiny fingers clutched his t-shirt, pulling him in for a kiss and he swallowed her moan as his thumb made slow circles around her clit. "Please," she begged, lips ghosting against his plump pair. "Sammy, please."

"No need to beg, sweetness. I'm happy to oblige."

* * *

><p>When Artie suggested a talent show, everyone looked at him like he'd grown a second head.<p>

"Are you shittin' me?" Puck bellowed. He was already on his fifth glass of the infamous Puckfasa margaritas and his tongue was loose and sassy. Lauren had to yank him back to the couch twice to stop him from giving a very disturbed but slightly amused Matt a lap dance. He was currently sporting his girlfriend's glasses and shooting Artie the dirtiest look a man in his condition could muster.

Mercedes snickered into her glass, thoroughly enjoying all the noise and chaos. It felt like old times, minus Rachel's creepy basement and wine coolers. They were adults now, but moments like this put her right back to high school. Alcohol. Music. Friends. And him…Sam. She was sitting in his lap, laughing at Santana's retelling of a disastrous meeting with a client, while he talked baseball with Mike.

The familiarity of everything, the feel of his fingers brushing against her skin, she enjoyed it. Old memories, tinged with new experiences. It felt the same, but…different. Not a bad different. Not when she looked into those hazy olive eyes, her lips curving into a small smile as she saw herself, the way he saw her. He was always so open, his expressions easy to read. And when their gazes happened to meet, she knew that he was thinking.

This felt right.

The more she held on to that look, the more she could convince herself that getting lost in Sam Evans a second time was a good idea. So she sipped her drink, leaned into his touches, and did her best to ignore the niggling doubts.

"Ooh! A talent show!" Rachel screeched, causing everyone to wince while Quinn shot her a dirty look. She scrambled to her feet, unfazed by their less than pleased reactions. "What a fabulous idea! I see Mercedes still has her old karaoke machine. We could use that!"

"That's actually not a bad idea," Sam chimed in. "Got my guitar here. I could play a little. Puck! You got your guitar?"

"What? Oh, yeah. It's out in the car. Finnegan!" Puck shouted, startling the brunet. He'd been relatively quiet all night, sitting in furthest corner away from the group, sipping dark liquid from a cup that never seemed to empty. "Dude. Run out to the truck and get my guitar."

"Is there a 'please' in there?" Finn asked, taking another sip from his cup.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Sure. Please stop being a little bitch and get my damn guitar from the truck before I throw this beer bottle at your head." He shot Finn a winning smile, laughing at the scowl on the other man's face as he stood up.

"Whatever," Finn muttered, getting up and walking out. He returned moments later, guitar case in hand and placed it at Puck's feet before heading back to his spot, far away from the rest of them.

Once again, Mercedes felt a small pang of guilt. Finn looked…well, he wasn't happy. He'd kept to himself for most of the evening, talking briefly with everyone…everyone but her and Sam. For his part, Sam didn't seem too fazed by it. He figured Finn would eventually get over their squabble. It wasn't that simple. At least not to Mercedes.

Nevertheless, she shook it off, focusing on her attention on Tina, who was talking animatedly about her ideas for the score she was composing for a friend's upcoming film. Sam's thumb pressed against the small of her back kept her distracted and she found herself fidgeting on his lap, her thoughts drifting to earlier, when his hand was in that same spot. She was bent over the bathroom counter, palming the vanity mirror as he fucked her from behind. A small, sharp shiver raced down her spine at the memory, shooting a throbbing pulse of need to her center and she squirmed a little on his lap. She didn't need those thoughts. Not when they're friends were around. Not when she couldn't have a repeat of the encounter. His firm, muscular form pressed against her, all sinewy muscles and hard thrusts, and Jesus did she miss that pretty dick. Thick and heavy, and she gripped him greedily, welcoming him home with sweet moans and tugs of his hair. That look in his peridot eyes was always her undoing; hot and hooded, licking his lips and she knew instantly he was thinking about her.

Mercedes felt that same look right now, his conversation with Mike continuing but the fingers at the small of her back pressed just a little harder and she rocked against him, shooting him a warning glare that he happily paid no attention to. Sam paused long enough to toss a lopsided grin in her direction and she knew his ass wasn't playing fair. That damn smile. Panty-melting smile. Jackass. She'd get him back later.

Artie shot them knowing glances, but was surprisingly quiet on the matter.

The more Mercedes thought about it, she realized their friends didn't seem shocked at the change. Almost as if they were expecting it. She was sure Artie and Santana had some kind of pool going, taking bets on when Sam and Mercedes would finally get their shit together. Mercedes didn't miss the smug grin on her fellow Troubletone's face when Sam reached for hand, bring it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the open palm.

"Alright, so who's up first?" Puck yelled. He was in his 'happy drunk' stage, and determined to keep the good vibe going, which Mercedes always appreciated. Party!Puck was one of her favorites Pucks and it seemed the old man hadn't lost his snark and spark after high school.

"Go 'head and start us off, Pucky. I wanna see what you play." Mercedes smiled as he pulled his guitar from its case. It took a minute of tuning, maybe a little longer because he was drunk and Lauren and Mike kept making fun of drunk Puck who honestly was a damn fool, but loveable, all the same. Finally he was ready, and the whole room erupted in cheers and hollers at the opening notes of 'Sweet Caroline'.

It was a Puck favorite, one he loved to sing and play (and torture everyone) with at parties and get togethers. No one was surprised when he started, and no one was surprised when Quinn sat beside him and started singing along, her husky, sweet alto perfectly complimenting his voice. It was their official song, and it made Mercedes smile, seeing the former lovers and now best friends re-living their high school days. Everyone else chimed in during the appropriate parts, and clapped loudly when he finished.

Everyone, Mercedes noticed, except Finn. He sat in the corner, still sipping from his cup, but the dark look he'd worn all night wasn't there. Instead, his gaze, unreadable as always was focused on her. She couldn't bear the weight of it, so she turned, moving her attention to Artie, Matt, and Mike who'd started up the karaoke machine and morphed into a hilarious but insanely completed pop and lock routine, playing the Pips to Tina's Gladys as she belted out 'Midnight Train to Georgia'. Their efforts were met with another round of loud, drunken applause and an overeager as always Rachel shoving them to the side, so she could put on her best Fanny Brice impression.

Her solo, while stirring, was cut short after Lauren made a loud comment about her 'singing bitchface', which caused Santana to snort into her drink and even Brittany cracked a smile. Rachel left the stage in a huff, plopping on the couch next to Rory, who patted her knee reassuringly.

He had to go rescue his own girlfriend though, because no one needed to hear her screech her way through 'What a Girl Wants' and everyone was thankful for his intervention. Sam and the rest of the guys (sans Finn) goofed off with a Kanye classic, with Kurt spitting a few rhymes on "Stronger" that had the room cheering. He finished his bars with a shimmy and s kiss from Blaine.

It was a great night. Between a surprising duet between Lauren and Quinn, crooning about 'That's the Way Boys Are', and the fellow Troubletones singing their signature 'Candyman', with Mercedes on lead, everyone was caught in various stages of drunk, and feeling lovely.

"Hey baby," Sam whispered, catching Mercedes as she made to sit down next to Santana. He had Puck's guitar and he was giving her that same smile and dammit, if she didn't clench again. "So, I was thinking we'd sing something together. For old times' sake."

Full lips tugged into a bright smile and she nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Sure. Of course."

"Aww shit!" Artie yelled, clapping as Mercedes joined Sam on the large ottoman opposite the couches. "It's gonna be 'Human Nature' Part two!"

"Shut up, fool." Mercedes shook her head, giggled as she settled next to Sam, crossing her legs and facing him as he strummed a few errand notes.

"I was thinking the xx. Sound good?"

Of course it was good. They were one of her favorite bands. He'd been paying attention when they talked. But then again, that was him. So she gave him another one of those soft smiles and nodded once more. "Yeah. That's perfect."

Sam returned the smile as he played the opening notes to 'Heart Skipped a Beat'. There was no need for him to instruct her, to say 'follow his lead'. As he sang, she tuned in at the right times, their voices layered together in the easy duet. He was rough, but she always liked the sometimes gravelly timbre of his voice and she matched it perfectly with a smoky, smooth alto.

The meaning behind the words and song weren't lost on either of them. Four minutes. Their love story expressed beautifully in four minutes, heartfelt lyrics, sensuous harmony, and a simple guitar melody.

_Please don't say we're done  
>When I'm not finished<br>I could give so much more  
>Sometimes, I still need you<em>

Mercedes felt the heat of his gaze as they sang, her chestnut eyes never leaving his. It was as if everything else faded away. It was him. He was the only one she saw. Sam. He could be hers again. Maybe she never let him go. Maybe he was what she'd been missing this whole time. Maybe she could be his.

They sang out the last note, voices fading with the guitar, but still she couldn't turn from him. That look. She remembered it well. There was something else behind it. Determination. This wasn't the same Sam from before. She wasn't the same, either. But maybe, they could be different together. She still needed him. She knew that now. That realization was strange, and terrifying. She hadn't needed anyone in quite some time. Maybe later, she could blame that realization and those feelings on nostalgia; getting swept up in the moment.

But there, in her rec room, in front of her friends, she let the boy who had her heart, or at least a good piece of it, she let him cup her cheek, let him press his lips, full, pink, and soft, to her equally lush pout and she didn't pull away when the gasps and cheers of her friends rang out. Instead she kissed him like it was only them.

Like they were back in high school. With her name in lights, and youthful promises of forever. Declarations of love that seemed beyond their teenage years and hope for them tackling their future together. She kissed him and tasted those summer nights. Caramel corn and cotton candy. Tilt-a-Whirls and nervous hands. Sweet first kisses and the heart-pounding anticipation of beginning something neither of them could quite understand, but they wanted to, badly.

Years later, miles of distances, thousands of unsaid words, so much silence, but Sam Evans still tasted like possibility. He still felt like forever. Still kissed her like she was his future.

The moment was interrupted by a dull thud. Mercedes broke away, smiling up at him and ignoring the 'Awww yeah!' chorus from Artie, Puck, Rory, and Mike, and the smirk on Santana's face. Instead, she looked up to see Finn, slamming the bottle of whiskey down, his large frame rising from his chair in the corner as he stalked out of the room.

Sam, squeezed her hand and smiled. "We should probably move before Artie starts singing R. Kelly. You know how he gets." Like a true gentleman, he helped her up, laughing when Puck tackled him in a hug and shouted gleefully about his 'OTP' being back together.

They celebrated with a round of shots, which quickly turned into three rounds and by the fourth, Mercedes was giggling and tapped out. The music was loud, and she was enjoying herself, until she realized Finn hadn't returned. It'd been almost forty minutes, but no one else seemed to notice his absence.

Despite the sweet buzz of the rum coursing through her veins, she couldn't shake the sight of Finn storming out, so while everyone else chatted animatedly, she turned and headed down the hallway, and upstairs. He wasn't in the kitchen, but the soft sound of water running led her to the guest bathroom on the first floor.

"Finn?" she knocked softly on the door. The water stopped, but he hadn't opened the door, so she knocked again. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

Silence met her inquiry, and feeling bold (and slightly irritated), she grabbed the handle, turning it easily and swinging the door open. He was sitting on the toilet, his head against the wall, eyes shut and breathing deeply.

For a brief moment, Mercedes wondered if he'd fallen asleep, but as she shut the door behind her, his eyes popped open.

His red-rimmed gaze was heated, those warm pools of whiskey staring at her so intently, it made her skin flush. She'd never had that with anyone. He could undo her, with just a glance; it unnerved and thrilled her at the same time.

"M.J." Finn's greeting was short as he stared her down, sitting up a little. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Mercedes ducked her head, that hot feeling refusing to go away. He was mad…at least she thought so. But also, hurt? It felt like hurt. Or maybe it was her guilt talking. There was something in his eyes, beyond the alcohol and irritation. A small look of pain she felt responsible for, and she couldn't shake that feeling. "I just…I wanted to check up on you. You don't seem to be having any fun."

Finn's laugh was hollow and mirthless. Pushing a hand through his dark hair, he shook his head, tugging a bit at the roots. "And here I thought I was hiding it so well. I keep asking myself…why the fuck did I come back here. And the longer I stay, the more I see you wrapped around him. Kissing him. Touching him. Pretending like I didn't mean shit to you, the more I wonder why I'm still here. Why can't I just leave? Why the fuck can't I leave you alone?" His voice broke on the last words and he sniffed loudly, getting up and leaning against the sink. His arms folded tight across his chest, muscles flexing under the striped Henley he wore.

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if there was anything she could say to make him feel better. Guilt churned in the pit of her stomach and she stepped forward, placing a small hand on his folded arms. When he didn't flinch away, she took that as a good sign and spoke again. "I'm sorry, Finn. I really am. I just-"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted, fixing her with another one of those rough looks. "Saying sorry isn't gonna fix this. It won't make this weight on my chest go away." Finn was silent for a moment. "He know about us?"

"No," she replied, her voice quiet. She glanced up, feeling a small pang in her chest at the sight of him. "No, he doesn't."

"You're not gonna tell him?"

"I…I don't know, Finn. Why would it matter?"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, because he tensed, his mouth setting into a firm line as he unfolded his arms and gripped her hips. Walking her backwards, she gasped when he pressed her gently against the door, his eyes bright and determined. "I don't matter to you?" Those big hands moved, sliding under her ass and she gasped, the faint throbbing between her legs causing those curvy hips to rock against him. It was all force of habit, and Mercedes couldn't lie, she missed him. Missed that look in those warm, whiskey eyes, and the way he couldn't seem to stop touching her.

"Tell me," he commanded, cupping her face in his hands. His lips hovered over her pout, trembling slightly as if fighting the urge to really do what he wanted most. Instead, he brushed them against her cheek, trailing feather-light kisses across her skin. "Tell me," he rumbled against her neck, breathing in her scent as his knee settled between her thick thighs.

Mercedes words were caught on a soft moan and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations that came along with his actions. Her mind was reeling, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away, her small hands fisting the material of his Henley, twisting the fabric tighter when he bit down, sucking on her flesh hard enough to make her toes curl and if her lower half didn't have the added support of his knee, she would've gone sliding to the floor. "Finn," she whimpered, rocking against him.

"No. You tell me. Tell me I don't matter. Tell me that I don't get you hot. Tell me. Tell me you don't love me. Please." He lifted up, pulling away from her, his eyes wet and pleading. "Tell me you never needed me. That I was just a fuck. A convenient one. That we didn't have anything more. It was just sex. It was nothing. Make me hate you, Mercy. Maybe that'll be enough. 'Cause I can't do it right now. Even seeing you with him, I still can't hate you. Just lie to me. Please. I can't…fuckin' do this anymore."

Finn pushed away, his chest heaving as he felt blindly for the door handle. "Wait, Finn. Just…stop." Mercedes reached for him, but he wrenched away, opening the door, and stepping out. To say she felt blindsided was an understatement. The brief encounter left her raw and confused, and she wasn't sure what to think. Pushing a hand through her curls, she exited the bathroom.

And ran straight into Rachel.

"Shit," Mercedes muttered. "Sorry, Rach. I didn't see you there. Wait…why were you there?"

The brunette fixed her with a stern look and folded her arms. "I came looking for you. You've been gone for almost half an hour."

Mercedes arched her eyebrow, taking in the other girl's posture. "Well…it's my house," she replied slowly. "I can leave for a few minutes without it warranting a full investigation. Now if you don't mind, I think I'll go back to my guests. Unless you need to interrogate me some more, Stabler." She pushed past the girl, intent on heading somewhere, anywhere else where she could breathe easier, when Rachel's words halted her movements.

"So does anyone know that you're sleeping with my ex-boyfriend, or are you two keeping it a secret?"

She whipped around, fixing Rachel with a cold look. Mercedes had to hand it to the girl. She didn't falter as much. Her arms wrapped tighter around and she steeled her spine, which Mercedes would find amusing if she wasn't already irritated. "What did you say?"

Rachel huffed. "You heard me. I saw you. With Finn, the other day in the locker room at McKinley. And I heard you two just now. Moaning in the bathroom, when you were just kissing Sam not more than a bit ago. How long have you been screwing my ex?"

"Okay, first off, stop calling him your ex. You two broke up years ago, not last week. Secondly, don't comment on things you clearly don't understand. What I do, who I fuck, that's my business. And if you'd like to keep on putting your nose in it, you'll find that I won't be as nice as this warning I'm delivering now. Stay out of it." Her hands were balled tightly at her side, more so to stop them from trembling than to pose a threat.

Still, Rachel tensed at the sight, but continued on. "No, you listen. What you're doing is wrong. You can't have both of them. You were always so selfish!"

Mercedes scoffed, the look on her face incredulous at the girl's words. "Are you fucking kidding me? Selfish? Coming from you?" She breathed deeply, calling on God and all his posse of angels and disciples to not let her beat this nosy ass girl right now because she knew Irene Jones would not appreciate blood on her hardwood floors. "Look, you've obviously moved on to bigger things, being Broadway's number one theater whore, so don't ever come at with your bullshit. Stay away from me."

With that she turned away, walking quickly towards the rec room. Her eyes darted around, frowning when she didn't see Finn. Everyone else was dancing and laughing, the party still rocking on, but Mercedes was in no mood anymore. The rum turned sour in her system and she could feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

"Has anyone seen Finn?" she called out, her frown deepening at the chorus of 'no's' that rang out.

"Honestly, I forgot he was even here" Santana yelled. "But then again, it's Finn, so no one cares. He's probably off somewhere, eating his feelings."

"Everything alright?" Sam's eyes were filled with concern as he cupped her cheek, the concern melting into confusion as she pulled away from him. "Cedes?"

"I…just need to find Finn, okay?" She glanced around, looking for Puck, and finding him dancing with Rory and Tina.

"Aye, Mama! Welcome back. Come back that ass up on me!" He reached for Mercedes, but she shook her head.

"Did Finn come back down here?"

Puck stopped hitting the dougie long enough to think hard before snapping his fingers. "Uh…yeah, he did. He said something, but I can't remember what. Taking a drive, I think? Everything alright?"

"I don't know yet. I wanna find him first." Mercedes turned, heading back upstairs and towards the front door, when she felt a strong hand grasp hers firmly.

"Hey, what's going on?" She knew Sam well enough to know he wasn't going to let it go. Still, she offered him a tight smile, hoping it'd reassure him.

"Nothing."

"You're lying. Did something happen?"

"Why would you think something happened?"

Sam shot her a look. "'Cause your eyes are red, and you're running around here like a crazy person. Tell me what's up."

Mercedes stared blankly, completely unsure where to begin when a nasally voice interrupted them.

"Yes, Mercedes why don't you tell him what's up?" Rachel stepped out from the kitchen, walking towards them with set determination.

"Are you kidding me? Didn't I just tell you to stay the fuck out of my business? Are you deaf, as well as nosy?"

"Hey, alright now. " Sam gripped her shoulders, preventing her from lunging at Rachel, who had the sense to be a little afraid. "Rachel, stop. Cedes, what the hell is going on?"

"Tell him, Mercedes. Tell him or I will."

"Mind your own business, Jesus!" Mercedes yelled.

"Whoa, what's going on?" Quinn suddenly appeared, followed by Santana, Kurt, and Blaine. "We could hear the yelling all the way downstairs."

"Mercedes is hiding something from Sam, and she needs to tell him," Rachel tattled, the sight of an audience making her bold.

Santana wrinkled her nose at the girl's words. "Okay, but what does that have to do with you? Why are you forever in someone else's business?"

"They fighting yet?" Artie shouted from downstairs. "We're coming up right now. Tell Cedes I said to hold up on beating that ass. I want a good seat!"

Mercedes groaned. This was turning into a spectacle, and it wasn't doing anything for her headache. "Look, Sam…I'll tell you what's going on, but first I need to find Finn."

"Okay," he replied slowly. "But why are you looking for him?"

"He's drunk, and upset. And it's my fault." She sniffed, her cheeks heating at all the attention on her. The rest of her friends were upstairs now, gazing at her with various levels of curiosity and concern. "This whole thing is my fault. I didn't mean for things to get to that point of weirdness, but now it is, and shit can't be undone, and he's hurting."

Sam gazed down at her, thoroughly perplexed and she was dreading the moment when things finally clicked. The look in his eyes changed, morphing from confusion to awareness.

"You were sleeping with him."

A collective gasp rose from the small group, silenced by Artie hissing 'shut up, y'all!', but Mercedes couldn't focus on that. Her attention was on the man in front of her. His grip slackened on her arms and he stepped away, rubbing the back of his neck. "How…how long was this going on?"

"Does it matter?"

"You're damn right it does, when we're…" Sam chuckled, but the sound was devoid of humor. "That's why he came at me, during basketball. Why he's been a brooding dick. He's in love with you."

"Listen, Finn and I haven't been together in months. It's been over, for a while."

"Does Finn know that? 'Cause you don't come at people that way unless they're stepping on some toes and crossing a line. Am I crossing a line? Are you his? You in love with him? What is this?"

His questions were too heavy for her to answer, and coupled with the stares of everyone, Mercedes clammed up. "Sam, can we just talk outside? This is just a lot, and I really don't want to do this right now, in front of everyone."

"Fine." Opening the front door, he stepped out onto the porch, and she followed him, shutting the door after them, the sounds of Kurt and Quinn berating Rachel and Artie calling for someone to beat her up carrying outside.

Mercedes leaned against the railing, pulling her cardigan tighter around her as she studied the man in front of her.

"How long were y'all doing this?"

"We stopped, like nine months ago. Before…maybe a year. We…" Mercedes sighed. "We just needed each other. It was good for us. Look, I wasn't expecting this. Any of this, with you and me. Coming back here, falling into the same old pattern, it was so easy. It's always been so easy, to get wrapped up in you, Sam. You were my first. Everything. My first love, my first time…and you're the first, and only boy who ever broke my heart."

"So you don't think I was hurting, too? Saying goodbye to you, going our separate ways…that shit wasn't easy for me." Sam folded his arms, his body language tense. "Maybe we could've done it. Stayed together. Gone the distance. Who's to say? But I ain't looking at the past with regrets. I stopped doing that a long time ago with you. Otherwise I woulda kicked my own ass if I could. I shoulda kept in touch. Done more. But I thought it would've made things harder for both of us. So months turned into years, and it killed me a little, every day not to have you in my life. You're my future, Mercedes. You never stopped being my forever."

"But you can't say those things!" Her hands shook as she pushed off from the railing, feeling her heart flutter at his words, warring with the churning feeling in her stomach. "You can't say you want forever, because we don't know each other like that. Dammit, Sam! We're not 'Sammy and Cedes' anymore. We've been pretending. This whole time, falling back into old habits, but we're not kids. Not anymore. We can't have what we wanted back then. You and me, in this secret garden. Just us.

There's other people now. What I do, it affects other people. Finn was good to me. We were there for each other. And I hurt him. I brushed him aside because despite everything, despite time and distance, I was still holding tight to an eight year old summer romance with someone who hadn't bothered to contact me. We cut each other out of our lives. What made us think it'd be so fucking easy to pick up, right where we left off. We're different. Things change."

"Bullshit," he countered. He stepped closer, the look in his olive eyes intense enough to make her shiver. "Things change. But we had. What we could have…that's real love. That shit is constant. Circumstances might be different, but how I feel about you, the way you love me….that's forever. And you know it."

Mercedes pressed her fingers to her temples, attempting to stave off the headache beginning to form. "What I know is, eight years is a long time, and a week isn't nearly long enough to fix a broken bridge. And you might believe in forevers and futures, but we promised those things years ago, and here we are. Who's to say it won't happen again?"

"So…all of that this week. Wanting to be together, wanting to start over…That was just some leftover shit? Just us reliving the glory days?" Sam scoffed. The hurt in his eyes was palpable.

"I didn't say that…I just don't know if it's real enough to take that risk of letting you back in. Letting this happen again, because we're stuck on some high school feelings."

"What I feel for you, that's more than high school feelings. Don't trivialize shit, to fit your logic. Do you love me?"

It was a simple question, that deserved a simple answer, and Mercedes found herself responding easily. "Yes," she replied, the word hanging on a soft whisper.

"Do…do you love him?"

That was the tricky one, and her hesitance made him move forward. Cupping her face, he gazed into her eyes, wide and round, searching intently as if he could find the answer that wouldn't make his heart hurt. But all he found was confusion.

"I…it's not that simple, Sam."

"It's always that simple, Cedes."

"Don't trivialize shit to fit your logic," she replied tearfully.

His own words being tossed back at him was the final blow. Sam pulled away, his hands falling limply to his side. "You were right, y'know. Eight years is a really long time. You kept saying that, and I guess I thought you were scared. So if I showed you these things, took you to our spots, relived some memories. It would bring back those feelings. And yeah, I guess it did. But….maybe it showed us that this," he gestured between them. "This is all we'll fuckin' have. Missed opportunity and loving people who don't exist anymore." Wiping his eyes he fumbled in his pockets for his keys. "I need to go."

"Sam…"

"Please? Let me go. It's too much tonight. Too much. The drive'll do me some good." Shoulders tight, he stepped off the porch, marching down the driveway and hopping into his pickup.

Plopping down on the steps, Mercedes cradled her head in her hands, the headache a full-blown migraine as tears of frustration slipped down her cheeks. She tried to hold the shaking inside, but soon the low sobs couldn't be contained, muffling them with her sweater sleeve as she told herself he'd return. That she'd sort this out. With both of them. That the roar of truck gunning down the quiet suburban street wasn't the sound of her future disappearing right before her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7: The Morning After

**Author's Note: It's been a long time, and I really shouldn't have left you. But real life gets in the way. There's only a few chapters left and I plan to see this story out 'til the end. So I'm glad you're still reading and still interested. I really do appreciate all the messages and comments, here and on tumblr. The reaction from Polaris has been overwhelming and I'm pretty damn grateful. It took a lot to write this chapter. Between indecision, procrastination, and terrible writer's block, I was 500 percent done. This is a product of too many cups of tea and a beautiful and sad song on repeat. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for your patience. **

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><p><em>No one else will know these lonely dreams<br>No one else will know that part of me_

_I won't always love what I'll never have  
>I won't always live in my regrets<em>

_- "23", Jimmy Eat World_

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><p>Finn Hudson didn't always have the brightest of ideas.<p>

Storming out of the party without his phone, he had no way to keep in touch with anyone who might've been concerned about him. Though he was sure with his friends either already drunk or halfway there, no one would even notice he was gone.

Buying the fifth of Jim Beam wasn't the smartest, especially considering he was angry (among other emotions), but he didn't want to think, and the whiskey would provide him with much-needed bliss, enough to get him through the night.

Getting drunk on the McKinley football field surely wasn't part of the plan. He had every intention of walking home, but ten minutes into his trek found the former high-school All-American trespassing on the field, climbing over the fence and landing on his feet with the lumbering grace of a very buzzed man. Gripping the bottle's neck, Finn took another large swig. The whiskey burned like fire, but the warmth was oddly soothing. It didn't take long for him to wander to the goal line, plopping down the in soft grass and taking larger gulps.

Thinking about her seemed like the dumbest idea of them all. But he couldn't help himself. Drunk, hurt, and alone, his thoughts drifted to their conversation in the bathroom, whiskey-soaked brain attempting to make sense of what transpired, but the only thing he could process was the feeling he'd lost her for good. It hit heavy and hard, a sucker punch to his heart and the groan slipped out when he sprawled on his back. The grass was slightly damp, the weather a little cooler, but all he wanted was the warmth she provided. Through smiles and touch, her curves fitted against him.

It wasn't fair.

A childish thought, but he was drunk and alone and it was trapped inside his head, burrowed in his heart and he'd never voice it aloud but he felt it. Every time he watched them together. Something coursed through him, hot and raw, a dark, bitter mix of anger and jealousy. He wondered why he couldn't have her like that, sweet songs and public kisses. His forever wasn't snatched away by Sam Evans; For Finn, the prospect of being more was never on the table.

He knew that then, but he really understood it now.

It didn't make the pill easier to swallow. He didn't feel better. He was just angry. At her. And him. But mostly, himself. For falling for someone who could only ever give scraps. For accepting them eagerly, for the small sliver of hope he couldn't suppress every time she called, and every time she didn't. He walked into the situation, eyes wide open; he had no one to blame but himself.

These were the thoughts that plagued him, companions for his drinking. The ones that made the whiskey slip easily down his throat, ignoring the headache he'd wake with hours later when the sprinklers would come on.

He didn't care about tomorrow. Didn't focus on what would happen in the coming hours, or how he'd have to sit there amongst his friends and pretend like he wasn't in love with Mercedes Jones. He didn't want to think; not about her, or anything else. With every pull from the bottle, Finn found it easier to lose himself in the welcome burn of whiskey. Drinking was easier than thinking.

In that moment, blacking out on the football seemed like the smartest idea he'd had in almost two years.

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><p>She was sitting at the table, clutching a lukewarm mug of coffee when Quinn shuffled into the kitchen. The blonde frowned, taking in the sight of her best friend perched on the edge of her seat as if ready to take flight. Little fingers grasped the mug tightly, curling around the porcelain, seeking the warmth from liquid that'd long turned tepid and unappealing.<p>

Her head was down, a few curls slipping from her silk bonnet and Quinn knew Mercedes most likely didn't sleep at all. Sam had left the party, the roar of his engine as he gunned his truck down the street audible even as Rachel and Santana argued. Quinn didn't care about Rachel's excuses; her only concern was Mercedes.

Finding the shorter girl on the porch, sobbing into her sweater tugged at the blonde. She wasn't sure what happened, but Sam was gone, Mercedes was upset and it was easy to guess things weren't well.

The party ended abruptly after that; the mood was shifted, somber and awkward as Rachel continued to justify her butting in, and Santana and Lauren threatening to shut her up for good. Quinn just wanted them out. Mercedes didn't say a word as she breezed past everyone and headed to her room, refusing Quinn's comfort for the privacy of her bed.

It was up to Quinn to see to their friends. Lauren and Puck assisted with the clean-up. Rachel's announcement that she was leaving was met with blank stares and an uncharacteristic 'finally' from Sugar. Kurt frantically called his brother, his frown deepening each time he reached Finn's voicemail, and Blaine softly assured him things would be okay. By the time the house was set right and everyone left, Mercedes still hadn't emerged. Quinn had long changed into her pajamas, hovering outside the door, wondering if she should knock, but eventually forewent the formalities and barged in.

Mercedes' back was to the door and it was dark, but Quinn still saw the slight tension in her small frame. She heard the sniffles and it didn't take much to head towards the bed, sliding in beside her best friend and wrapping the shorter girl in her arms. It took a minute for Mercedes to turn, but eventually her head was on Quinn's chest and she accepted the soothing circles on her back and the soft kisses to her temple.

Quinn fell asleep with her just like that, only to awake to an empty bed. Down in the kitchen, she battled with Irene's Keurig machine, eventually making Mercedes a cup of jasmine green tea and coffee for herself. Wordlessly she carried both mugs to the table, setting the tea in front of her bestie and settling into the chair next to hers.

The blonde took a quiet minute to sip the fragrant roast, knowing she didn't have to say much before Mercedes started talking. She'd already watched the tiny brown fingers curl around the mug and it was only a matter of time until she took a sip. Quinn was patient, drinking her coffee and scrolling through her phone when she heard Mercedes, small and raspy as her voice was.

"I really, really fucked up, Quinn."

She wanted to sigh, but instead Quinn set down her mug and turned her gaze to Mercedes, an unreadable look in her hazel eyes. "Is that what you really think?"

Mercedes took a careful sip of her tea and nodded slowly. "I should have told him the truth."

"You didn't owe him anything, Mercy. You can't walk back into someone's life and expect to pick up, right where you started. And I told Sam that. I said to be careful, because you aren't the same person." Quinn could feel the rant building but she bit down on the urge, even though she hated seeing Mercedes heap unnecessary guilt on herself.

"I know." Yanking off her bonnet, Mercedes shook out her hair, pushing a hand through the dark, springy curls and sighing heavily. "He says it's as easy as saying 'I love you'. That if I love him, we should be together. That we can get back what we had. The thing is…I don't know if that's what I really want."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes," Mercedes replied. The response slipped out as easily as it did last night, when Sam cupped her face and asked her for reassurance. She loved him. She never stopped loving him. "Loving him is easy. Admitting it is as simple as breathing. It's the whole 'being together' thing we never managed to get right."

"Are you sure? Because from what I've seen this week, you two do a solid job of being together."

Mercedes licked her lips. "I…maybe." Reuniting with Sam felt right. She couldn't deny those feelings, the peace at the nearness of him, coupled with the fluttering excitement. It was a combination she missed, something she chased for years after their breakup. Sam was both shelter and the shake-up, and her heart missed the exhilaration of it all. "We made so many promises of futures and forevers and part of me wonders if that jinxed us. I love him, even if the circumstances itself were temporary." It was fear talking, her words thick with the emotion, and they both knew it.

Quinn nodded and picked up her cup again, glancing down at the milky mixture before taking a generous sip. "So then…what are you afraid of?"

"What if what we had…what if that was simply high school? We're adults now, Quinn. I live in New York, and he lives in Pittsburgh. The long distance thing isn't something I want, not with him. It's what killed us the first time, and the second. I don't need a third."

The blonde fixed her with a pointed look. Distance was just one factor, but it wasn't the only one. "It's just the distance, then? Nothing else?"

Chestnut eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

They weren't playing this game; Quinn hated coyness. "I'm asking if there's another reason. You two aren't teenagers anymore. There's ways to work around the distance thing. And don't tell me the reason you've been crying, the reason Sam left without saying a word is because of distance. Not after we all witnessed Rachel's dramatic reveal. Is Finn the reason you're scared of trying something again with Sam?"

She should have known Quinn's perceptiveness would work its way into the conversation. Though, after last night, it wasn't hard to figure out. Apparently the long pause wasn't what Quinn wanted, because she kept on talking, but not before giving an almighty huff.

"You're making this difficult, Mercedes. Admitting your feelings for Finn doesn't mean you want to be with him. How well is that denial working for you? Finn's angry and Sam's hurt, and you're sitting here like a zombie. Just…say something." The blonde was ready to throw her hands in the air, when Mercedes spoke again.

"I'm not making this difficult. I know where I've made mistakes. Being with Finn, the way we were…_that_ wasn't a mistake. It wasn't supposed to be more than it was. I wasn't setting out to fuck with his head, nor did I expect his feelings to deepen." Mercedes set the mug down, suddenly feeling tired as she slumped against her chair. "We were lonely, Quinn. I was lonely and feeling like I couldn't gain my footing. It wasn't about missing Sam. With Finn…he was familiar. I've known him since we were six years old. I could never use him. We needed each other, what the other provided. It wasn't just sex. There was comfort and care."

"I know," Quinn agreed, her voice soft and reassuring as she reached for Mercedes' hand. "You're not that person. Manipulative and dishonest. You wouldn't have used Finn or purposely hurt him. And I think, maybe he knows that. Which is probably why this is so hard for him. Well, for all you, really. I'm not judging you. Finn is a good guy and you're both adults. But…maybe not defining what you were to each other was a mistake."

That, Mercedes could admit. It wasn't like she didn't notice. Didn't pick up on the vibes, how things changed between them. The looks he gave her, or the way he held her…she knew. But it was easier to ignore, to compartmentalize her feelings in the vain hope of keeping what they had on a strictly platonic level. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore his feelings, and now it seemed like she could no longer tuck away her own.

The tea was still warm when she lifted the mug to her lips, taking a generous and slow sip. The jasmine was fragrant, but not overpowering and she felt the slightest bit of relief from the soothing, subtle blend. "Is that possible, loving more than one person?"

Quinn seemed surprised by the question, her fingers hovering above her phone. "I don't think I've ever been in love, so I'm not sure how to answer that. I thought I loved Puck, and maybe I did, in my own way. But love isn't this definite thing. There's so many ways to describe it. It's different for everyone. How you love one person isn't the way you'd love another.

So yeah, I suppose you could love more than one person at the same time. Logically, yes. But…to be in love, like deeply in love…that's something different, entirely." The words hung heavily in the air while Quinn sipped her coffee, waiting a beat before dropping another pearl of wisdom. "You have to ask yourself hard questions, babe. There is no 'sooner or later'. It's now. You have to deal with them. And someone is going to be unhappy with the answer."

Mercedes heaved a sigh, the sound quickly giving way to a surprised snort when Quinn added,

"Of course, there's always dating them both. But something tells me those two aren't down with the threesome life."

"Quinn!"

The blonde's lips twisted into a sly grin as she peered at her best friend. "What? Would you rather I sweep in and whisk you away instead? Say the word, Mercy and we'll get the hell out of here, and leave nothing more than a note announcing the wedding and where we're registered."

She didn't want to smile; she really didn't, but the teasing look in hazel eyes was soothing and Mercedes found it incredibly difficult to keep her expression neutral. Her lips tugged upwards, a small effort but she reached out, grasping at her best friend's hand, needing that reassurance.

"Thank you." The words were quietly spoken, and her expression grew soft when Quinn lifted their joined fingers to her lips and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Mercedes' hand.

"Anytime. I know I've been kind of MIA, and I'm sorry. Sometimes it's hard, getting back to the real world and connecting with everyone, all over again. I miss so much. But I'm serious about that whole running away deal. I'll even buy a ring. Make it official."

"Alright now." The words were meant to be a warning, but it would've been far more effective without the fit of giggles that followed. Quinn was just happy to see her smiling. Much better than the tears from the night before.

Indeed, Mercedes seemed…rejuvenated was too strong, but perhaps the tea and the talk was the little jolt she needed. The issues still remained, and she'd need some time to sort out whatever was working its way through her head. She hated feeling like she hurt Finn, and she couldn't stop picturing Sam's face, the crumpled look in olive eyes before he turned and walked away.

She wasn't sure how it was all going to play out. But there was something settling under her skin. A strange mix of energy coupled with mild panic; that frenzied feeling she recognized as inspiration. It'd been a long time coming. The urge to write something, anything was back and Mercedes appreciated the welcomed distraction.

A soft beep from Quinn's phone tugged Mercedes out of her thoughts and she looked to the blonde, who glanced at her Galaxy and frowned.

"Everything okay?" Mercedes asked as Quinn quickly shrugged.

"Fine, I guess. I have to run out for a couple hours, but are you going to be alright?"

Mercedes returned the shrug. "I'll be here, if that's what you mean. I just…need some time to think. It'll be good for me."

"Okay then." Quinn rose from her seat and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her friend's forehead. "I should only be gone for a little bit. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will. And thanks, Q."

Quinn smiled warmly. "Of course."

Mercedes waited until she heard the upstairs shower start before dumping out the rest of her tea and heading to her room. Pulling out her laptop, she settled on her bed, eagerly waiting for her draft to pop up.

This time, she wasn't worried about deadlines or bylines, of empty email inboxes and feelings of inadequacy. There was no muse in particular, but this time, Mercedes put her focus into the words, letting them spill out like ink.

It was better than any tea.

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><p>Sam didn't know what time it was, but Blaine was singing Lady Gaga, and he knew his life didn't need any bit of that, especially now. It didn't help that the pullout sofa in the Hudson-Hummel den wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping spots. Sam remembered the piece from the time he spent living with the blended family who took him in during his senior year.<p>

Before Burt converted his office into a suitable space for a teenage boy, Sam was forced to sleep on the sofa in the family room. It was only for two weeks, but his back wasn't about that life. Too many reminders of uncomfortable hotel cots, of giving up his space and privacy so his younger siblings could share a motel bed.

It was also the couch where he spent far too many nights with Mercedes. When he was too tired from working long hours at the Lima Bean, determined to pull his weight in someone else's house, they kept their dates simple. Takeout from Breadstix and watching _Buffy_ marathons, analyzing the characters and plots, arguing about meta, and quoting their favorite lines. Or homework study sessions which usually ended in making out furiously atop the books, eager to get a few kisses in while they were still alone…that couch had seen it all.

So maybe it was less about the mattress and more about the memories.

The clang and clash of pots upstairs made him groan and Sam rolled over, burying his face in the covers, willing himself to fall back asleep. Stressful situations exhausted him. When he'd first learned of his parents' financial woes, he slept for ten hours straight. There never seemed to be a productive and therapeutic outlet for his anger, but sleep allowed him precious moments of peace, something he desperately craved when he couldn't deal with the rest of the world.

Of all the people to follow him last night after he left Mercedes' house, he wasn't expecting Blaine or Artie. Sam was driving nowhere in particular, unsure of where to go, but knowing he needed some time away. Mercedes' tears almost always broke his heart and he couldn't bear to see her cry.

The confusion in her gaze, chestnut eyes teary as she admitted to loving him, yet stalling on the other question he didn't want to think about…it made him tired. So fucking tired and sad. And maybe a little angry.

He was more than a little angry last night, seeing her tears and struggle. His mind wandered, wondering just how much he mattered to her and whether or not Finn mattered more. It was a selfish thought, this he knew. One he didn't feel entitled to after years of dead air between them.

Sam could still hear Quinn's words ringing in his head, warning him about falling back into things. They weren't the same people, those teenagers with summer nights and secret gardens and far off forevers. Between goodbyes and distance, they'd become people with pasts and secrets and he hated feeling so far away from her.

Strangers. They were strangers who happened to be in love with each other.

It was enough to make his head pound and the tears burned in his eyes last night while sitting in his truck in the Lima Bean parking lot, wondering if the ache would ever fade. Part of him was ready to drive back to Pittsburgh. Cut his losses and call it a wash.

Too fast. The one-track mind mentality was never more apparent with Mercedes. With her, he was reckless. Always had been. From the time he'd returned to McKinley after their too-brief summer romance, Sam was set on showing his love. He made no attempts to conceal his feelings, but he tried his hardest to respect her relationship.

This new business with Finn was another matter entirely. They weren't together, but clearly feelings remained. It burned him to think about it, the feeling almost hypocritical. It'd been eight years, and he'd had his share of relationships. But they only served to remind him of the girl he couldn't seem to forget. That he'd wasted so much time, from cowardice or fear of being rejected, instead of fighting for something he both knew they wanted.

He didn't blame her for moving on, even if he couldn't bear to think about it.

With a sigh, Sam rolled over. Between Blaine's pot banging and singing, and his own thoughts, sleep wasn't happening. Getting up was for the best, anyway. He needed to figure out the next steps beyond 'should I stay or should I go?'.

Sam remembered posing the question to Blaine and Artie when the pair pulled into the parking lot beside him. Blaine drove Kurt's old Navigator, still in mint condition thanks to Burt's maintenance, even while his son lived thousands of miles away. Kurt didn't see the point of having the SUV in the city, considering it a parking nightmare in their Brooklyn neighborhood, but the old man couldn't part with it, keeping the ride for whenever Kurt was in town.

He was grateful to the two, who let him sit in silence for a stretch before Blaine quietly suggested he come back to the Hudmel home to get some rest. Sam tensed; it was after four in the morning and he didn't know if being in the same house with Finn was the best idea. It was Artie who told him Finn wasn't home, and in fact, no one had seen him since he left the party. It was the only way Sam would agree; it was too late to wake up Puck and Lauren to grab his stuff, but he didn't mind sleeping in his clothes. Too much sat on his mind, and he knew sleep would be hard to come by. It seemed he was only knocked out or two hours when Blaine's voice pierced through the quiet. Burt and Carole were out of town, visiting Carole's sister in Indiana and Sam almost envied them because they didn't have to suffer through the Gaga/Perry medley happening in the kitchen.

Sam let out an audible groan and briefly considered moving if only to stuff the pillow down his bowtie-loving friend's throat when a voice from the doorway made him glance up.

"Oh hey. You're awake."

The blond watched Artie wheel into the room before sitting up and pushing a hand through his messy bedhead. "Kinda hard to sleep when you've got a front row seat to the Gaga-Perry experience."

Artie cracked a smile at that as his hands settled in his lap. Always an early riser, he was already out of his pajamas and 'dipped in Artie swag' as he called his eccentrically-pattered shirts.

"Man, he's been up for hours and did a whole Gloria Estefan setlist before Kurt almost threw an orange at his ass. All this singing, and breakfast still isn't done. I'mma go to the Waffle House in a minute." He adjusted his glasses, a habit Sam knew to be a stalling tactic.

"So…" Artie's gaze was careful, as he searched for the right words. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Not really." A short response but honest. There wasn't much to say on the matter, a least nothing that wouldn't come out a jumbled, rambling mess. Tossing off the blankets, Sam moved to the edge of the sofa's mattress. It took a minute to get to his feet, but soon he was standing and busying himself with setting the couch back to its original state.

For his part, Artie helped fold the blanket, passing it to Sam who set it on the side once the bed was folded down and the sofa cushions were back in place. With the couch in order Artie cleared his throat, another tell Sam recognized for when the man was about to speak some realness.

"It's okay, man. Not being okay. You know me, I'm always here for drama and with this group it's almost guaranteed. But last night…" Artie paused for a moment, brow furrowed as he attempted to work out his thoughts. "Look, I don't know what happened out there with you and Cedes. But I know whatever y'all had in high school…it's still there. This isn't me with blinders on.

Anyone who saw y'all sang last night could see whatever was there eight years ago is still here now. I get that you're feeling foolish, but please believe…Mercy isn't that type to hurt or deceive anyone. I've known her since we were in diapers and I've loved her longer than all y'all fools."

Sam's lips twitched into a brief smile at that. "I don't even feel deceived. There was always a possibility of her finding someone else." His tone was somber, and Sam slumped against the couch. "Maybe it was naïve of me to think reliving what we had was the best idea. Mercedes ain't the same. Hell, neither am I. But every part of me is saying this is a sign. Not just coming back here and falling back into how we used to be, but realizing time never changed how I felt. I shoulda held on to what we had. Shoulda been smarter eight years ago. Maybe…" he trailed off with a sigh, and shook his head. "I can't sit anymore in my fucking regret. Maybe she loves him. But I _know_ she loves me. And I know I never stopped loving her. I just want us to have a chance again, Arts."

The weight of his words sat heavy in the air, but he was relieved at the lessened pressure in his chest. The situation was complicated, but loving Mercedes would always be easy, at least admitting to it. Their timing seemed off but their love was rock steady. Even if getting shit together seemed impossible. Sam knew what he wanted, and maybe she was scared or unsure, but he knew how she felt, at least when it came to him. That was his hope.

"I get it, man " Artie started, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic softer tone. "Feelings are still there. But…all I'm saying is, you gotta be prepared to accept whatever happens next. You wanna be with her, and you know that's what she wants, then y'all can't half ass this."

Sam nodded, knowing Artie was preaching that good word. "What I feel for her Arts, I could never love her halfway. I don't wanna see this turn into a wasted opportunity. If…" he trailed off, his throat tightening at the other possibility he didn't want to consider, but knew it was necessary.

Artie seemed to understand and leaned in, giving his friend's arm a reassuring pat. "Best thing you can do is…you gotta talk to Cedes. See where y'all stand on this thing. But don't rush her. You've waited eight years to get off your ass. Ain't no sense in rushing it now. Just think about shit, Sam. It's a different go 'round. But I do know, you gotta be prepared to step up to the challenge. You don't half-step with a woman like Mercedes Jones. Take some time and focus not only on what you want, but how it's gonna fit you both in the future. 'Cause forever is good and all, but the right now….that's what needs the fixing."

Olive eyes were pensive, and Sam briefly lowered his head before nodding. "I hear you. I do."

That seemed to please him, and Artie gave a short nod, just as he heard Kurt's voice from the kitchen, complaining about Blaine's singing and wondering about breakfast. "Come on. Let's get out there before that fool dies over a damn quiche. Fancy New York shit, I swear."

Sam couldn't help but snort as he made to get up. The tight feeling was still there on top of the anxious desire to reach out to Mercedes, but he was attempting to take Artie's words to heart. He wanted to do this right. Do right by her. Clear head and a heart full of love. It was the least he could do.

A pair of voices rang out then and Sam quickly recognized the opening lines of 'I'll Cover You' and quickly shook his head. "See we gotta put a stop to this, otherwise we'll never eat. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Quinn pulled Mercedes' SUV into the McKinley parking lot. The student section was closest to the football field and she climbed out, making sure to grab the small paper bag from the passenger seat and the coffee cup from the holder.<p>

Walking towards the field, the blonde was flooded with a sense of déjà vu; the feeling that came with being back at McKinley made her uneasy but nostalgic, like slipping into an old sweater that didn't fit quite right anymore. Too many memories. Some good. A lot of them great. And others…she wanted to forget.

She'd cried in her car in that very parking lot the afternoon after taking a pregnancy test, completely alone and terrified of telling her parents. The boy, she never told. He was nobody, a brother of a fellow cheerleader, home from college. They'd met at a party and hit it off. He was cute, she was buzzed and tired of playing the good girl and doting girlfriend to the star quarterback.

She'd sat numb on the bleachers the morning her father kicked her out of her childhood home, the decision made by both her parents. The former head cheerleader had to break the news of her condition to the quarterback. Her voice was devoid of emotion, watching his face contort in confusion first, swiftly followed by anger, and then eventually hurt. Her face was blank, even as she watched him walk away.

The next year, she spent quite a bit of time under those bleachers, hiding away from the world and the girl she used to be. A former teenage beauty queen turned statistic. Nevermind she'd given the baby up for adoption. She was what she was. Her saving grace was Mercedes. The Jones family took her in, welcoming her with open arms and treating the young girl as if she were their own.

With Tony and Irene, Quinn found the comfort and safety she desperately craved. It would take years before she'd speak to her father again. The relationship with her parents was still strained.

Shaking her head, Quinn attempted to shake out the bad memories. Instead, she focused on the good things. Parking lot parties after games, celebrating with the football team and other cheerleaders. Dance contests with the Cheerios after practice. Her first real kiss on that very field, after her quarterback boyfriend won the game that eventually led them to a state title.

Walking up to the metal bleachers, she spotted the former quarterback in question. He was older, bigger, and from the look of it hungover, but he was still Finn. Even if he was hurting.

Wordlessly Quinn climbed the steps, thankful she wore flats, and settled beside Finn. His Henley was slightly damp, his eyes were bloodshot, and jaw clenched as he sat, forearms on his elbows with his large hands clasped together. Quinn crossed her legs and stared out at the large field, white lines bright against the vibrant green.

The grass looked damp and Quinn wondered if Finn had slept on the field, but she didn't ask. She simply held out the to-go cup, white with the Lima Bean logo on the side and waited.

Her lips tugged into a small smile when Finn glanced down, staring a beat at the cup before taking it.

"How'd you know I was here?" His voice was gruff, the hangover heavy in his tone as if talking was a task and she knew he definitely overdid it with the whiskey last night.

"You're a creature of habit," Quinn explained. "There was something you liked about being out here. Sitting at the very top of the bleachers, having a place of your own to think. I'd see you up here a lot after we broke up."

A dark chuckle slipped out then, and Finn finally lifted the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. He cocked brow and turned to the blonde. "You remembered."

For her part, Quinn shrugged. "Of course. "Half mocha, half vanilla, two shots of caramel and a dash of cinnamon, served scalding hot." The blonde laughed softly. "Do you know they still call it 'The Hudson'? You're famous."

It was Finn's turn to shrug, though he did give her a ghost of a smile before sipping again. "Guess so."

"I suppose some things never change."

Finn glanced over, whiskey-colored eyes reddened and full of something Quinn couldn't decipher. "Been hearing that a lot." The silence was heavy but short, Finn's question hanging in the air. "She send you here?"

The sliver of hope in his voice didn't go unnoticed and Quinn wasn't sure how to answer him at first, reaching into her purse and passing something to Finn. "You left your phone at the Jones' house. Kurt's been calling. He's worried about you. And I have to admit, I am too."

Finn clenched his jaw, thick fingers curling around the iPhone as whiskey-colored eyes met Quinn's curious gaze. "Just wanted to be alone, Q."

"Hey, I get it. It's been…an intense couple of days. But you seemed upset. Kurt was frantic. And this was a longshot, so I took it."

That made him frown and he clutched the cup tighter. "I don't know what the hell to do, and there's nothing anyone can say. I don't wanna hear another person tell me to 'back off', to 'stop getting in the way'." Finn scoffed. "Who the hell was there, this whole time? 'Cause it wasn't him. But we're back in Lima and suddenly I'm the dirty secret. I'm the one that's gotta play backseat to a summer fuckin' romance from eight goddamn years ago. The roadblock in someone else's 'forever'. And the worst part is, I knew it was gonna happen." Chest heaving, Finn set down the coffee cup. He was feeling that urge, the itch in his fingers and he knew smashing the scalding drink would only make him feel worse. The hangover pounded behind his eyes and he was exhausted. "You can't let go of someone who never wanted to be held in the first place."

His voice cracked on the last words and Quinn looked away, giving him the time to compose himself. A few deep breaths and Finn reached for his drink, taking a small sip.

"Finn…" Quinn started, unsure of where to start. "I know—"

"You don't have to say anything, Q" he replied, his tone sad and resigned. "There's not much to say, at this point. Kurt told me they were inevitable. Maybe he's right. But when he wasn't there, when she needed someone, on those lonely nights when things hurt…it was me. Any maybe I knew how shit was gonna go, but…I love her. I just wanna matter, Quinn. I just wanna know I was something to her, even if I can't be everything."

A small silence settled in, and once again Quinn found herself giving him the time to sort his head out. Eventually she spoke again, raspy voice breaking the quiet. "You do matter, Finn. I don't know everything that happened between you two…but I know Mercedes. And I know you, too. We haven't seen much of each other over the years, and really…we're all so different…but I still see traces of the boy from high school. Less chair-kicking, though."

That earned a brief lift of lips she wasn't sure could be classified as a smile, but it was a start. "She does care about you, Finn. For what it's worth, even if it doesn't mean much to you now. But we both know deep down, you know it too." Quinn sighed as she leaned into him, the move instinctual and familiar. She glanced out again at the football field, as if she'd hear Coach Sylvester's shrill whistle piercing through the quiet.

"I used to think this place was gonna be the best of me," Finn rumbled. "I thought this was it. I'd never leave Lima. Work at some auto shop and wait for Rachel to come back and we'd get married or something. But then I got into Rutgers and got knocked down from top dog to backup. Rachel dumped me. Things took off from there. Philly Soul and living this dream I never thought possible." He scoffed. "Fuckin' Iron Man Hudson. Famous now. But it all feels…empty. Being with Mercedes, she understood that feeling. When we were together, I didn't think about how temporary it all was. She'd make an excuse to go, or I'd leave before Kurt woke up, or whatever. But it didn't matter. Those few hours, wrapped up in her…it felt like enough. Like, we could really be what we needed. But maybe…we only eased the numb in each other. Didn't fix it. Maybe she made it worse for me. I don't know anymore." Feeling drained, Finn slumped against Quinn, resting his head atop hers as they sat.

Quinn linked her arms with his. "You know, I don't regret much from high school. Who I was, or the things I'd done. There was a time where I wallowed in self-pity and guilt, ashamed of my choices and the people I hurt…especially you." Her raspy husk grew softer and she took a deep breath, the conversation seemingly directionless until Finn spoke again.

"It took a real long time for me to forgive you."

She nodded. "I know. It took even longer for me to forgive myself. I did some really fucked up things. But, I'm really glad we're in a place to know each other again. I know you're hurting now, and things are just as messed up. But maybe with you and Mercy…"

"Please don't say that, Q."

She felt the tremor in his voice more than heard it and nodded once more, giving him the silence to get himself together again. There wasn't much to say after that anyway, and Quinn felt completely drained.

After what seemed like forever, she eventually cut through the quiet, her words soft and hesitant. "Kurt wants me to bring you home."

Finn sniffed and shifted over, slipping out of her hold and picking up the Lima Bean cup. "Yeah, okay. I can…think that's best. He's probably fussin'." Rubbing at the back of his neck, Finn offered her a weak smile. "Thanks, Quinn." There a great deal of weight to his gratitude, heavy with the thoughts he couldn't express, but she understood.

"No problem, Hud."

The old nickname brightened the faint grin, and Finn helped the blonde to her feet, holding tightly to her hand as they headed down the bleachers and the all-too familiar path to the parking lot.

* * *

><p>It took a supreme shift in focus, but Mercedes finally felt like she was getting somewhere. At first the words flowed free and easy. Chubby brown fingers flew over the keyboard, the soft clicking the only thing heard in the quiet space while she emptied the contents of her stream of consciousness.<p>

But as quickly as the thoughts bubbled up, suddenly the well was dry and the quiet she'd craved earlier was too damn loud. Writing moved to pacing, in the vain hope that movement would get her back on track, but it only served to make her dizzy and anxious for something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

A glance at the clock and she realized it was late and she hadn't eaten a thing. A few slices of toast took care of that, but twenty writerless minutes later, she surmised her hunger was a serious issue which toast was clearly not equipped to handle. But leftover cheesecake? Definitely. Two pieces later, she was hopped up on sugar and back to the drawing board. She ignored Kurt and Tina's calls, sending them generic 'I'm okay' texts while rolling her eyes at Santana's message of 'THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE'.

It was the incessant buzzing of an overworked mind. Writing wouldn't help; she couldn't put her feelings into exact words, the weight of them pressed against her chest. She needed something else, something beyond the quiet of the space and frantic pace of her thoughts.

Music.

Picking up her guitar, Mercedes settled in the middle of her bed, shoving the laptop aside and shifting the guitar to her lap. The small sliver of peace was instant, and she found herself humming along, little fingers slipping up and down the fret, seeking out the random notes that gave way to coherent chords that still didn't fit any song she recognized but she sang along anyway. It was a melody of mumbles, the words faint, mashups of differently lyrics but she was just grateful to for the moment.

With her eyes closed it was easy to get lost, to let the feelings tightening her shoulders fade away. To distract herself from the faint scent of a familiar cologne still on her sheets, hopeful o olive eyes and sorrow-filled whiskey-colored ones. Something to take her mind off a plo that still felt flimsy, the grip of strong hands settled on her hips, or the roar of a truck zooming down a quiet block.

Between a book she was sure she'd never finish, to a music career she was positive would never launch, to the complicated matter of the heart, she was tugged in far too many directions for her liking.

A small sigh slipped between parted lips just as her fingers squeaked across the fret. Her heart wasn't confused. That was the problem. While she prided herself on pragmatic thinking, the diva knew there were times when her head needed to shut the hell up, because her heart was speaking some real.

It was her heart who said 'do the damn thing' when she spotted the 'Writers Wanted' add for _Wrecked_. Her heart was in every song she posted online, every piece she'd written, and in every line she jotted down, on napkins, in Word documents, and in her songbook.

Mercedes knew her heart, knew what she wanted. Knew the fear that resided in the small cracks, the ones that seemed impossible to fix on her own. She was scared. Not of her feelings, but hurting someone she cared deeply about.

But she was so tired of overthinking, the mental acrobatics taking its toll. She needed to let it out. Setting her guitar aside, Mercedes reached for her phone. Nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach when she scrolled through her contacts, only building while it rang and by the time she reached his voicemail greeting, she was tense as a livewire, nibbling on her bottom lip and fiddling with her necklace.

Somehow she managed a few deep breaths, licking her lips before letting her words flow. Her voice was soft at first, and she could hear the tremble, but it didn't stop the thoughts from tumbling out. It was brief, but hanging up, she felt a temporary relief that was quickly replaced by a strange jumble of fear and certainty. She'd done the right thing. She felt it in her heart. But the next step was entirely out of her hands and that was a terrifying notion.

Perhaps it was the comedown from her bold act, or the lack of sleep, but she was exhausted. Her limbs felt like lead and she fell back against the pillows, clutching the phone to her chest as heavy lids fluttered shut. It was a strange feeling, tired but still wired. However, the victory belonged to her body, shutting down the worries and she was thankful for the peace, curling on her side as she drifted off to sleep, head still buzzing and heart hopeful for a response.

"_Hey. I know things are...[sighs] I thought about giving us a few days to…I don't know…cool down or whatever, but I don't wanna wait. I don't know if you're still in Lima or not, but if you are….maybe we should meet somewhere. I'd really like to see you. Just…call me back. Or you could text me. Either one. I…hope I hear from you. Okay. Bye for now." _


	8. Chapter 8: Forces of Friction

**Author's Note: Well you know...it's time for my yearly update. Sigh. But we're almost to the end with this one. Only two more chapters left and they're gonna be...interesting. This one is shorter and doesn't feature our leading lady but the next will more than make up for it, with plenty of overdue conversations and tying of loose ends. For now, I leave you with a very tense, and very necessary confrontation. Enjoy, and as always THANK YOU for being patient with me and my very moody muse. **

* * *

><p><em>I'm looking for a nice way to say 'I'm out'. <em>  
><em>I want out. <em>

_Don't it feel like sunshine afterall?_  
><em>The world we love forever, gone<em>  
><em>We're only just as happy<em>  
><em>As everyone else seems to think we are<em>

_-The World You Love, Jimmy Eat World_

* * *

><p>Quinn didn't bother asking if he was feeling better. She knew it'd take more than a namesake latte from the Lima Bean to lift Finn's spirits. As she guided Mercedes' SUV through the familiar streets of Lima towards the Hudson-Hummel residence, she was content to let the silence settle in. After their conversation on the bleachers, it was better. Finn was never one for too many words, and she supposed that hadn't changed even after the passing of so many years.<p>

His head rested against the glass of the passenger side window and he looked exhausted, even with his eyes closed. She let him rest, keeping the radio low and the car in a peaceful silence until they pulled into the driveway of his parents' home. He didn't move until the engine was off, unbuckling his seatbelt and gripping the handle. With a small cough, he turned and met the blonde's gaze.

"Thanks."

Quinn attempted a smile then, small but warm. "Of course. I'm sure you're tired."

Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Kinda. Gonna sleep for a bit, and then catch a flight out."

"You're leaving?" Hazel eyes narrowed slightly at that, though she had to admit it wasn't entirely surprising.

Finn apparently thought the same, leveling her with a knowing look. "Yeah, I am. There's no reason for me to stay here anymore. Hell, I shouldn't have come back in the first place."

The blonde wasn't sure how to respond; she could understand his need to put distance between himself and a messy situation. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling it all felt like fleeing. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Quinn slipped the keys from the ignition and clutched them tightly between her fingers. "I get it, Hud. I do."

He didn't respond, not with words. Only a grateful look and a nod before easing his large frame from the car. Quinn followed him to the front door, a move that surprised him, but she simply shrugged. "I'm hungry and I know if Kurt and Blaine are home, food is somehow happening. It isn't always about you." That last part was followed by another smile, and Finn found a spare bit of amusement, huffing out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, okay." He knew Burt and Carole kept a spare key inside one of the large planters adorning the front steps, and sure enough he felt the key hidden between the ferns. The house was filled with the scent of some kind of breakfast, and Finn tried to recall the last meal he'd eaten. It was hours ago, his stomach rumbling quietly as he headed towards the kitchen with Quinn in tow. Something to eat before his nap would be good for him. Food, sleep, and then hopefully a ride to the airport. He was hoping Kurt wouldn't give him shit for ducking out, but as far as he was concerned, this glee club reunion was over.

Voices from the kitchen had his brow furrowed, the talk animated and as they reached the entryway Finn stopped, causing Quinn to walk right into his back with a small yelp. "Really, Finn?" She peered around him, noticing Kurt and Blaine seated at the kitchen table along with Artie, who was helping himself to the plate filled with bacon. Quinn's outburst made the small group look up, but Finn's focus was on the tall blond at the counter, sipping juice. Dark eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened in a hard line, causing everyone's gaze to volley between the two men. Finn pointed at Sam, though his question was directed towards Kurt when he asked, "What the hell is he doing here?"

* * *

><p>The last person Sam expected to see that morning was Finn; but considering this was his parents' home and despite leaving in a tantrum last night, it wasn't too hard to fathom he would eventually return. But Sam had hoped he'd be long gone before that. Really, this situation was Blaine and Kurt's fault. He couldn't resist a good meal, nor the friends who made a convincing case ("You sit down right now and eat, Samuel Evans or I swear I'll bean you in the back with a lemon!").<p>

Strange as the threat was, Sam knew Kurt was serious. And to avoid fruit-related bruising, he obliged the impeccably dressed man, sharing a damn fine brunch and good conversation with his friends. It lifted his spirits considerably and he was grateful for the distraction from the heaviness of last night. Now that weight was back, sinking in his stomach when olive eyes met hard, dark ones. Finn's glance was brief and his question, more out of annoyance than anything else was directed at Kurt, who simply shrugged at his brother.

Sam set his glass atop the counter, wincing slightly at the loud thud when it hit the granite. "_He_ spent the night here," he replied, earning him another sharp look from the stormy-eyed Finn. "Relax. I was just leaving."

"Sam, you don't have to do that." Blaine's voice was calm and he offered his friend a small smile. "We're still eating, and it's not like you two can't be civil—"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kurt warned. He stirred his tea and took a minute sip, his eyes focused on Finn who still seemed annoyed.

"I could always take you to Puck and Lauren's." Quinn's raspy suggestion was directed to Sam, who nodded gratefully at the blonde.

"Thanks, Q. I gotta grab some stuff from the den. I'll be right back." He slipped from the kitchen, opting to take the route through the dining room offside rather than through Finn, still standing in the entryway. He wasn't too far down the hallway when a muted 'beep' indicated a voicemail, and he kept walking while digging through his jeans' pocket for the phone.

Chestnut eyes narrowed and Finn rounded on his brother. "Why did you bring him here? You know what, I don't even care. Soon as I pack up, I'm leaving. I'll catch a nap on my flight."

Blue eyes widened at that and Kurt gaped at the taller man, taken aback by the sudden announcement. "You're leaving?"

Finn scoffed, the sound harsh and incredulous. "Really, Kurt? Why the hell would I stay? I shouldn't have come back in the first place. I didn't wanna be here. Soon as she suggested that bullshit about keeping what we had on the low, I shoulda backed off. 'Cause I knew what was gonna happen. And it did. He gets the girl, and I'm going home." Finn unfurled his fingers, unsure when they'd balled into tight fists, but the air felt too thick and he had to take a slow, deep breath before speaking again, the tremor in his voice unmistakable. He hated it. "There's nothing for me here. There never was. So yeah…I'm going. I'm over memory lane."

"So that's it , huh?" Kurt folded his arms and leveled his gaze at his brother. The look was sharp, a Kurt Hummel specialty that would've humbled a wiser man but Finn was too exhausted to do more than lift his broad shoulders in a shrug. "You run back to Philly with a chip on your shoulder and your tail between your legs. Are you planning to shut all of us out, or just Mercedes? I'd like to know for my Christmas gift list."

"Are you serious right now? You're the one who told me to back off and leave them alone. My own damn brother…what was it you told me the other night?" Finn scoffed then and tapped his chin, deep voice taking on a higher, mocking tone. "'What they have is inevitable'. Why the hell would I even bother with how you're feeling?"

Kurt's cheeks blushed furiously when he heard his own words tossed carelessly back at him and he crossed his arms. "Did you ever think I was actually looking out _for_ you? That I didn't want to see my brother hurt, because I know, without him even saying it, I know how much he loves someone who probably doesn't feel the same way? I've had your back as much as I've supported Mercedes. This isn't a 'you versus them' deal, Finn. I love you all and I don't want to see our group torn apart because of this. We're all friends."

Finn pushed a hand through his hair, tugging angrily at the roots. "Friends? You're joking, right? Look around, Kurt. Everything's different. Being back here is weird. We're all pretending when the truth is, this group stopped being friends a long time ago. Why do I feel like the only one who actually left high school? You're all in the same fuckin' relationships!" He gave a harsh laugh then, pointedly ignoring Artie who mumbled about 'having a woman outside the glee club circle' in favor of glaring at his brother. "We grew apart and yet here we are back in this same shithole town, chasing after ghosts. We're not 'all friends', Kurt. We're strangers trapped in the same old ass memories."

The words were harsh and even Quinn winced from her spot at the doorway. Kurt, however remained rigid, his arms tightening in the fold across his chest as he glared at the much larger man. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Finn. I really am. But no one here is to blame for your unhappiness. You've been miserable since college and I don't know what you're looking for, or what you expect but taking it out on everyone else—_your friends_—isn't going to make you feel better. It'll just make you feel more alone. But then again, maybe…maybe that's what you need."

Finn's jaw clenched then, his lips thinning to a firm line and he shifted against the weight of his brother's harsh but truthful words. "Yeah…see you around, Kurt. I'll catch a cab to the airport."

Blaine interrupted then, holding out a hand as Finn turned to leave. "Wait. Okay it's been a very tense morning after a rough night and I understand emotions are high, but you two shouldn't leave it like this. Not when everyone's upset."

"Blaine's right," Quinn added. Almost hesitantly, she reached for Finn, fingers grazing his arm in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Come on, Hud. You're tired. And feeling all kinds of shit. Please…just take a nap. If you wanna leave afterwards, I'll drive you to the airport myself. No questions or soapbox speeches. I promise."

Last night's whiskey turned on him with a vengeance, and Finn could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes. Despite the stubborn resolve that wanted him to leave Lima in his rearview, Finn knew they were right. He was tired and needed rest. Sleep wouldn't fix the situation but he was over his emotions playing out for an audience. He wanted time to settle into the hurt, quietly and alone. So he nodded at Quinn and wordlessly left the kitchen, not even bothering to spare a glance in his brother's direction. Tension tightened the muscles in broad shoulders, searing pain nettled his temples and he rubbed at his forehead to relieve the sensation.

Finn wasn't sure what made him pause at the front door, didn't know what came over him when he peered out the glass and saw Sam on the other side, phone pressed to his ear, but suddenly his fingers were gripping the knob and twisting it open and he was back outside and facing the slightly startled blond who slipped his phone into his jeans' pocket, his jaw tense as olive eyes narrowed slightly . Finn noticed Sam didn't seem entirely surprised to see him nor did he appear angry. He simply waited and shuffled aside as Finn closed the front door behind him.

Sam pushed a hand through thick locks and cocked a brow in Finn's direction. "This the part where we dance battle, or…" It was such a Sam thing to say, flippant and deceptively casual to mask the awkwardness of it all, and for some reason it rankled Finn, who crossed thick arms over his broad chest and fixed Sam with a stony look.

"Why are you here? And I don't mean in Lima or any other smartass answer you wanna give me. I mean my house. Figured you'd be with Mercedes."

Sam's jaw visibly tightened and he ignored the burning warmth of his ears in favor of shrug. Apparently Finn wasn't made aware of his...disagreement (he didn't want to admit it was a fight) with Mercedes, and he wasn't going to be the one to tell him, either.

"Dunno if that's really any of your business, man." His tone was careful and even, despite the heaviness in his gut. The night before had left him feeling raw about the nature of Finn and Mercedes' relationship; the hurt he felt he didn't have a right to, only added to the mounting guilt and regret whenever he thought of the missed opportunities from the last eight years. The message gave gave him a glimmer of hope, that it wasn't too late for whatever existed between him and the woman he couldn't seem to say goodbye to. Sam was anxious to leave, but he had a feeling it wouldn't happen just yet, with Finn stepping in.

The response only made the taller man laugh, a harsh barking sound that was anything but happy and his arms fell limply at his sides while he regarded Sam. Finn didn't exactly feel like picking a fight, but the more the hangover throbbed in his temples, it seemed like a decent way to channel the too heavy emotions that churned his gut and weighed heavy in his heart.

Hurt twisted his lips into a tight frown, bitterness dripped from his tone and it was hard to hide the jealousy that flared so easily when his thoughts drifted back to the night before, watching the intimate song session between Sam and Mercedes. "It's definitely my business. It's my house. And since y'all had your little song and kiss display last night, I figured you'd be busy with the reunion. Not here choking down Blaine's dry ass quiche."

Sam could tell when someone was just messing with him. Rationally, he knew what Finn was up to, but he couldn't help falling for the bait. "Is that what this is about? You want me gone? I'm just waiting on Quinn, man. Soon as she's ready, I'm outta your hair. You can go back to sulking or whatever it is that makes everyone treat you like some damn baby they gotta look out for."

Finn fixed him with a stormy look, the glare matching the one in Sam's olive eyes, but he wasn't backing down, not now. It'd been set in motion, this confrontation, building up since their basketball game, and Finn wasn't about to miss another opportunity to speak his mind.

"'Baby'? That's real rich, coming from you. Rolling into town like a goddamn golden boy, like all it's gonna take is a few reminders of a dumbass promise you made years ago, and never made good on. Fuck you, Evans. For real. You don't know shit about Mercedes. Not the one I know. She's not the same girl. She's not your girl. And she damn sure ain't mine..."

"And that's my fault?" Sam snapped, his jaw clenched tightly around the question, bitter and heavy as it tumbled out. "Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but it had nothing to do with me-"

"Nah, it's always had everything to do with you." The way Finn said it, quiet and borderline mocking, as if dangling a secret above his head only made Sam narrow his gaze. Arms crossed, Finn shrugged at Sam's expectant glare. "If you don't know, then you really don't know MJ as well as you think you do." He knew it bothered him, that someone else could potentially know her. And Finn thought that was stupid, considering it'd been eight years and Mercedes was never the kind of girl who pined, at least not openly.

Finn wasn't the only person she'd managed to see over the years, but he was the most consistent. And the closest reminder of home. And Sam never had to look the others in the eye the way he was forced to with one of his oldest friends, who, the longer they stood there on that porch with their glares and arms crossed, felt more like a complete stranger than anyone else.

"So what, you hook up with her a few times, and suddenly you're the expert? What we had, what's still there...that's real love. Always has been. Always will be." Even in the worst of circumstances, in miles of distances and years of dead air, Sam could count on that love. Firm as bedrock and just as long-lasting. He wasn't saying it to be cruel. It just was. The sky was blue, the Knicks were a disappointment, and Sam Evans would always love Mercedes Jones. These were facts.

Even Finn couldn't deny that, much as his chest ached hearing it. He didn't care for the casual tossing aside of what he'd shared with Mercedes though, and his lips tightened to a thin and furious line. "Never said I was an expert. But I was there. I've gotten to know her. And I've loved her a lot. Just 'cause it's not some epic fuckin' forever, doesn't mean it didn't matter. You don't even-" Finn scoffed, a large hand pushing through dark locks, tugging hard at the root. "Whatever, man. You act like loving someone first means knowing them better. Or that you automatically win."

The 'win' of it all jarred his anger, and Sam found it easy to give when his fingers slowly curled into a tight fist. "Win? This ain't a fucking contest, Finn! And Mercedes isn't a prize I'm gonna fight you over."

Finn seemed just as offended by that, furious red-rimmed eyes meeting the angry blond. "I know she isn't! That's not what I meant and you know it. It's never been a contest to me. I was never trying to compete with what you two had. I wanted something with her, that was just _**ours**_. I didn't want someone else's leftover affections. You don't even-" His hands shook with the admission, eyes burning because he felt so damn silly admitting it aloud. The shame in knowing he'd never measure up. "You've been gone for eight years, man. Don't get on some high horse, because you get your happily ever after."

"What the hell are you even talkin' about?" The snarl was barely contained in Sam's deep rumble, olive eyes holding a stormy look while he glared at Finn. The surprise of hearing the other man's honesty was overshadowed by his frustration, and he chose to focus on the more immediate of the two. "Do you think any of this is easy? Don't you think I wanna know Mercedes? _Really_ know her? That maybe this is the chance for us to do that? She went off to New York and became this writer and I feel like I'm talkin' to a stranger half the time. I know my part in this Finn. I know what's my fault. You don't get to shove it in my face like some kind of bargaining chip."

Finn shrugged at that, uncaring about being petty. Petty was far more useful than the foolish slip of earlier honesty. "It's the only one I've got. And I'll play that hand, much as I want." It was such a small thing to be smug about, but it beat letting that defeated feeling take over; the one that sank heavy in his stomach, twisting his gut worse than any whiskey. There was a thrilling and sick sensation in seeing flickers of doubt mar Sam's features, the twist of anger in full lips, and the furl of fingers into a tight fist as the blond worked to restrain his emotions.

A twisted sense of satisfaction in upsetting someone who was already close to snapping, and Finn braced himself as he continued the tirade. They'd given each other much to be vulnerable about in the short exchange. Finn knew Sam would never carelessly toss another's feelings around. But it was easier for Finn, who held no qualms about hitting below the belt. Better to dish out the hurt than to deal with his own.

"You left. You didn't, not once at any point in eight years contact her. And now you pick this week to suddenly remember feelings and push your way into shit, like you've been here in her life all along. And yeah, you're right. You don't know her. And that's not my fault. It's yours. She's a long way off from high school, and the girl you used to know. And maybe how she changed, maybe that's your fault too. Ask her why she'll never finish that novel. Or why she's comfortable, staying at a job she knows isn't her passion instead of pursuing what she really wants. What she's always loved, long before she _ever_ loved you. Ask her why she wanted me in the first place. Why she needed me to ease that ache, time and time again.

Even if you get your forever, part of you will always wonder if she's stopped thinking about me. That maybe the answer to the question you dread asking, the one she dodges just might be 'yes'. 'Cause sure...she loves you and facts and happily fuckin' ever after...but that won't erase me. Not completely. I know that. _She_ knows that. You know it too...and it kills you. That right there, might just be enough for me."

There wasn't a trace of anger on his face or in his words, though looking at Sam, Finn could see more than enough. Finn knew he deserved a hit; a few, actually. Dark eyes held a challenging glare as he watched Sam with his furled fists and clenched jaw, his own lips twisting hard into something that resembled a smile. Nothing pleased him more than pissing Sam off and leaving him on the porch with his fury and doubt and unanswered questions. His shoulders tensed for the hits that never came, though the rough timbre of Sam's voice snapped hard against his retreating back.

"Y'know...you were always a jealous and miserable sonofabitch. Even back in high school. Someone had what you wanted, and you made sure to ruin shit for everyone. It was always about you. Eight fuckin' years. You haven't changed one damn bit."

"Yeah." Finn's short response didn't hold back on the growl, lips practically curling into a snarl as he glanced over his shoulder into flat, olive eyes. "That's right. You got me all figured out, Evans."

Jaw tight, Finn stepped back inside, nearly knocking into Quinn when he reached the hallway, the look on her face searching and suspicious as she carefully eyed him.

"What were you doing out there? I thought you were going to crash?"

"Had to take care of something." He attempted to sidestep her, Quinn managed to stand her ground. Brow arched, she assessed Finn's ruffled appearance, the dark scruff, tousled hair and bloodshot eyes.

"Go rest. You look like hell. Call me when you wake up and I'll take you to the airport."

"Yeah, okay." He said nothing more though he could feel Quinn's piercing gaze follow him upstairs. Finn figured the blonde knew exactly what he'd done outside, but as he flopped back on his bed and stared at the walls in his childhood bedroom, adorned with all the trappings of the star he used to be, Finn decided he didn't really care.

With the heaviest of sighs, he shifted against the pillows, groaning a bit at the size of the small twin bed versus his considerable bulk. Reaching into his jeans' pocket, Finn pulled out his phone and connected it to the charger near his nightstand. He'd set his alarm ensuring he wouldn't have to stay in Lima longer than necessary; a few hours' nap and then he'd leave this damn town and every bad fucking memory behind. Focus on Philly, and future. A path he'd walk alone, but perhaps it was for the best.

Whiskey-colored eyes crinkled with confusion when he noticed the alert for a voicemail, and Finn dialed the number, expecting to hear his agent's booming voice on the end, announcing an scheduled interview or mandatory appearance, but it was nothing like that. This voice, familiar and smooth as it was, was completely unexpected and it took a second listen before he finally grasped what she'd been trying to say in the initial ramble while he worked to get over his surprise.

_"-I don't know if you're still in Lima or not, but if you are….maybe we should meet somewhere. I'd really like to see you-" _

Like a shot, Finn sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the too-small bed and staring bewildered at the slim phone still clutched tightly in his large, pale grasp. The automated voice was repeating the menu, prompting him to delete, repeat, or save but Finn's mind was still stuck on why she'd call in the first place. Meet. Talk. See. Talk...the confusion knitted his brows and only made the dull throb from his hangover all the more apparent.

Part of him wanted to delete. End this bullshit between them and walk away with some part of his dignity and heart intact. He wouldn't show up just to hear her say what his gut already knew. That it wasn't him. Never was, never could be. He couldn't-wouldn't-deal with that. He hated the faint flicker of hope in the pit of his stomach. Nothing, not even the bitter doses of reality he choked down could wash it away. He wondered if he'd always love her like that. Warring with resentment and hope and dancing with doubt. It didn't seem fair, to either of them.

Flopping back on the bed, Finn groaned. He knew, without a doubt...he'd go to her anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, well, well. So if Mercy called Finn, then who called Sam? And how will it change things in his favor? And what about the rest of the ND crew? We're in that homestretch, which means plenty of angst and possibly a happy ending (at least for some people amirite? I'm awful, I know). But I will attempt to be about shit and keep these updates in the same damn year. <strong>


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